Strange Little Things
by BlackInkJinx
Summary: Defeated and faced with imprisonment, Nuada instead joins the B.P.R.D. to pay for his crimes. His sister urges him to accept the humans, but his hatred is still strong. When a young and strange witch is in need of a home, the team adopts her and shows her the world she had been denied. But for Nuada, she shows him what it means to be human, to be forgiving, and to be loved…
1. A Defeated Prince

Chapter 1; A Defeated Prince:

Hello all! For the longest time I have wanted to write a fic for the Hellboy movieverse. I loved Nuada's character the moment I saw him, and ate up every fic about him. As much as I loved them, I wanted a story with a little more action, a little slower romance, and a lot more adult themes. So, I decided to write what I wanted, and I hope that each of you adore it as much as I have writing it. Without further delay, please, enjoy.

* * *

Nuada would win. That much was certain. The demon known as Hellboy had little chance now and was tiring.

Moving fluidly, Nuada circled his opponent, his sword held even; a perfect, undaunted horizon of metal. He stalled the demon's strike, watching a grin break onto the demon's face as if he thought the contact of iron a victory in itself.

Nuada's face however was unreadable. No fear, no invitational smirk. He was banking on the demon to make a rash mistake, as he always did. With another strike, the demon hit his blade against Nuada's, but this only gave the prince an opportunity to catch his opponent's sword with his.

With a sharp spin, Nuada twisted the demon's blade out of his grip, leaving him weaponless. Of course the demon was undaunted, as he instead opted to rely on his stone gauntlet. Charging forward, the demon struck left and right. But Nuada was too quick, dodging so that the demon only came into contact with air. Sensing that the lesson in fencing had deteriorated into yet another brawling match, Nuada decided to end it.

Tightening his grip on his sword, Nuada retaliated. As the demon launched another punch, Nuada turned so that the blow missed him by a hairsbreadth. But this lent him a closer position to the demon. The demon lashed out with his other hand, trying to stop Nuada's next move, but it was too late. With a single leap, Nuada changed his position from being in front of the demon, to behind. With a move of finality, Nuada pressed the tip of his blade to the back of the demon's neck.

The demon stilled, though the pressure Nuada put to the blade could not harm a creature like him. But seeing as how he had the demon's full attention now, Nuada decided to conclude the lesson.

"Now, how did I do that?" Nuada asked.

"By being a slippery bastard?" The demon retorted with a smirk. He played at being humorous, but given the tension in his shoulders Nuada could tell that the demon was irked with his loss. As such, Nuada got to the point.

"You need to rely on more than your strength to win your fights. Yours wits. Your speed. Your agility. Your enemy. You need to know the limits and powers of each, know them inside out." Nuada recited, recalling lessons taught to him long ago. But those memories were not pleasant, and so he pushed them away.

"Most of my enemies are either squid beasts or trolls." Hellboy spoke up, shaking Nuada off, "I'd rather not know about their insides."

Walking to the other side of the gym they were occupying, Nuada sheathed his sword. Turning, he raised an incredulous brow towards the demon.

"And if you come across an enemy like me again?"

Nuada noted the tension rise back up in the demon, rather like the hackles of the cats he was so fond of. Nuada was pleased to see that the demon, as foolishly as he acted, had learned one thing. It was clear to him as it was to Nuada who would win in a real fight. These lessons only reaffirmed the fact. It hung over them like an unspoken truth; that the demon had been lucky in beating Nuada. And yet…and yet…

"Won't happen." Hellboy finally said with a shrug, bending over to pick up his blade. The tension was still there, but he tried look nonchalant. Nuada looked to his own things as well, trading his sword for his spear. Despite the time they had spent together this past year, Nuada could not tell if the demon believed what he said or meant to threaten. Perhaps the latter, not that it made a difference. Neither Nuada nor the demon trusted one another, and that was for the best. It left them clear on where they stood.

"Hey babe. All done?" Announced the woman who was mate to the demon, Liz Sherman. She strode into the room, combat boots pattering against the matted floor. The tension in Hellboy disappeared as he met her partway, draping an arm around her shoulders.

"Yup. How the twins?"

"Napping, finally." The woman sighed before smiling, "Thought I'd go hit the gun range. Wanna join me and fire off a couple rounds?"

The demon chuckled.

"Oh, I love it when you talk dirty."

"Quit it Red." Miss Sherman warned, but by her grin, she did not mind the demon's flirtation.

Nuada waited at the edge of the room for the two of them to leave. Now done sparing with the demon, he wished to practice alone with his spear. Normally the woman could not stand to be in his presence for more than a minute. This was understandable, seeing as how Nuada was nearly responsible for her mate's death. But to the prince's surprise, the woman directed her smile towards him.

"What do ya say Princey? Want to come with? Join the 21st century?" She asked.

Nuada did not reply immediately. He saw no insincerity in her request or expression, but felt it was not for his own benefit that she asked him.

"I walk a different path." He declined, gesturing to the spear he held. The woman only shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

With that, the demon and his mate left the room. The padded walls of the gym seemed less confining to Nuada then, but remained as stifling. Being underground did not bother Nuada as much as it would any other member of his kind. In his exile, he had lived among the trolls and goblins he had befriended. Such a connection was deemed below his own kind, and yet Nuada did not regret them.

But this circumstance was different. This place, this whole complex reeked of humanity. From its concrete floors to its ventilated air. His confinement here kept him from seeing the outside world for nearly a year. For the past few months though, he had been allowed to offer assistance with certain missions. Only with Hellboy, Abe Sapien, and Kraus close by was Nuada allowed to accompany. Though he was technically here as the Bureau's prisoner, some felt it was necessary that Nuada aid where he could. As a way to pay for his so called crimes. Often he overheard discussions amongst the others over whether if he should even be allowed to leave his room. Some felt his having a room rather than rotting away in a cell was even too much lenience.

Taking his spear in both hands, Nuada forced himself into position. It did little good for him to focus on such matters. Try as he might to devote himself to the forms and techniques he practiced, Nuada could not concentrate. His motions became less fluid, harsher. Careless. His strikes were powerful, and he did not reserve his strength. Rather he poured himself into the movements, hoping to exert himself.

He felt closed up. In his exile, he only felt confined in the sense he could no longer associate with his own kind, the elves. All his actions had to be kept secret from his father the king, but still, he was able to move at will. Here, he was always watched. By the humans, by Hellboy. By his own sister. Like a muzzled animal, they watched him as if waiting for the moment he would break. Perhaps that was the reason Hellboy insisted that he become part of some missions. As if the temporary reprieve from the Bureau and chance to utilize his talents for combat would placate him. If that was their plan, then it was failing miserably.

Nuada's lips curled into a sneer as rage churned within. He struck at the air, any methodical technique lost as he simply aimed to consume himself in the stabs and slashes he delivered. In the twist of an arching attack, Nuada caught motion in the corner of his eye, and reacted. Caught up in the moment, he turned to strike it, but stopped.

"Nuada." Smiled Nuala, hands clasped before her.

She was standing on the edge of the floor mat Nuada practiced on, waiting patiently for him to finish. Nuada, breathing heavily, straightened himself. He had not sensed her approach, but now that she was in the room he could feel her presence. Concern, apprehension, and amusement rolled off of her. Her humor was probably because she had managed to catch him off guard in his practice, but he did not dwell on it. He had been…unfocused of late.

"Sister." He nodded in return. Nuala, unphased that her brother could have pierced her heart if not for his control, came closer. Nuada placed the butt of his spear upon the ground, glancing behind his sister. He could not see Abe Sapien in the room, but his senses told him the amphibious man was not far off. It was a rare sight to see him and Nuala apart. Furthermore, Nuala was treated as a welcomed guest, as well as ally, to the Bureau, and could come and go as she pleased.

"How are you? We have not spoken in some time." Nuala asked him, tilting her head curiously.

She had been away recently, attending to the matters of the Elven Court. With their king dead and Nuada still in exile, the elves were desperate to find a new leader for themselves. Nuala was the only logical choice, but she was hesitant to accept the responsibility as it would force her to marry another elf to secure heirs. As such, she stalled for time by proclaiming that they would move to be ruled by council rather than royalty. Of course, she would be head of said council, but many were unhappy with this and opposed it. Because of this, and her time spent with Abe Sapien, Nuala and Nuada were kept at a distance from one another.

Nuada then was surprised to see her, but not unhappily.

"As well as to be expected." He replied simply. He abandoned his position to move towards the benches. He shorted his spear, placing it down before reaching for his shirt. His sister did not follow, instead choosing to study him. Nuada could tell she had something to say, but given the exasperation she could feel on him, she was not sure how to begin.

"And how is your Abraham?" Nuada spoke, if just to break the silence between him and his sister. Dressed fully, Nuada turned to see his sister widen her smile.

"We will be attending a concert tomorrow night. Mozart. Abe's favorite."

Nuada's brow rose at this.

"Is that wise?"

"We will be under the stage. Hellboy found a passage under the concert hall when he was on his last mission. Well, crashed through it more like." She laughed.

Nuada nodded, but said nothing more. His sister could feel his own concern for her, but it seemed she would not heed it. His sister had been accompanying the amphibious man out into the human world, though not with any consent from the Bureau. Like Hellboy and his frequent escapades, the others had taken it upon themselves to go out into the world more. Nothing dramatic, but the Director was always yelling at one or all of them for being seen or getting caught on camera. For all his protests, nothing could be done to stop them. The Director could do nothing more than object, for if he took any measures to confine any one of them then Hellboy's threat to quit the Bureau would be made real. It created unneeded complications, of which Nuada and his sister were in the middle of. Though it would appear that she had now made her decision to support the others rather than remain partial.

"You could join us." She offered, taking a hesitant step towards him. The feeling of her disquiet edged at Nuada's consciousness, and he found he could not take his sister's hesitance any longer.

"Why have you come here?" He asked, wanting to get to the point. Nuala lowered her head, but with determination met his harsh gaze.

"I felt your anger." She told him, her voice laced with unease, "Brother, it has been a year."

Nuada turned from his sister, the hand at his side clenching. The same feeling that had come over him during his practice returned. His rage burned fully at the surface, and his felt his sister visibly shrink from him at the force of it.

"One year. For all those hundreds I spent alone, you expect me to forget all that I endured in one, single, year." He seethed. He did not want to unburden his thoughts onto his sister, yet he could not help but voice the truth when it came to her.

"I am not asking you to forget." Nuala said softly, "But you have yet to make an effort to mend the gap between yourself and the rest of the world. If you refuse to do this, then..."

She did not need to finish. Nuada knew to what she was referring to. She feared that he would try and once more take vengeance upon the humans, and in the process, harm her lover and new friends. But more than that, she feared that he would force her hand.

Jaw clenching, Nuada was reminded of the promise his sister had made to him the day he had been bested by the demon. It was not so much spoken in words, but was just as binding. In his anger and humiliation of being beaten, Nuada had taken the cowardly action of drawing his dagger to attack the demon's back. This, and only this, Nuada regretted. It held no honor, and spoke only of his lack of control. He would have done it regardless, as he could not be held back from his purpose. The loss of his honor would have been of no consequence to him then. What had stopped him though, was something far more dearly to him. He had, in the last crucial moments, caught the shine of his sister's blade which she had placed to her heart.

She would have killed herself to stop him. As surely as he would have plunged the dagger into the demon's back. In that moment, Nuada was forced to realize that he had a choice. Take the demon's life, and so forfeit his own and his sister's in a senseless loss. Or, surrender. His sister was perhaps the last good thing on this earth, and for that, he would not allow her to kill herself. It was not from some selfish desire to keep himself alive. No, she was the only one he had ever felt close to, whom he still loved. In the darkness and despair of his years alone, he had mistaken this love for Nuala as something more than brotherly. This Nuada recognized now as mistaken. But this did not alter the fact that should Nuala suspect that he meant harm…he did not like to think.

Bringing his thoughts to the present, Nuada addressed his sister.

"I am resolved to live in peace with the humans." He admitted with a frustrated sigh.

Nuala shook her head, distressed.

"That is not enough, brother. Your anger, your hate, is still there. _You_ need peace brother."

Nuada clenched his fists as he forced himself not to speak in anger. All he could feel now was his rage, and his sister did not deserve his wrath. She, in her small way, was trying to help him. But she knew as well as he there could be no helping this. Picking up his spear, Nuada focused on its weight in his palms. Such a heavy thing it was. As heavy as the burden on his shoulders.

"I…will retire for the night." He said slowly, careful not to let his rage seep into his tone. Before his sister could reply, Nuada moved past her and into the hall.

His anger still coiled within, but Nuada tried to force it down. It served no purpose any longer.

For Nuada had been defeated.

The humans, the demon, even his sister were unaware of this truth. Most believed that Nuada had surrendered, however unwilling, to the Bureau when the demon had bested him. They believed that he had yielded the Golden Army and the crown to become their prisoner, to pay for his crimes, and to be content that he was allowed to live. His sister believed he surrendered only because she left him no choice. That she would kill them both to stop him. In death, he could do nothing. Perhaps she believed he would once again attempt to unleash the Golden Army as he intended, and so was desperate for him to make peace for fear of having to commit to her promise.

But no. None of these things were true. Not in Nuada's heart. The truth of the matter was much simpler than any of those things.

Humans had won the earth, a long, long time ago.

The moment his people hid themselves away in the dark, letting themselves become stories for the humans to whisper , they were dead to the world. It was already too late for the world he had once known, as the greed of man had dug and burnt it away, leaving only a hallow space to conquer even if Nuada had succeeded against the demon. There was nothing left for them in this world any more. Even if Nuada had won, even if he had burned all trace of humanity away, there was no possible way for his kind to restore their former glory. This sad realization struck him all the more every time he looked at his sister. Not only would the heirs to the crown die if she decided to stop him, but so too would the elves. Nuala was one of the last remaining females of their kind, and whether she would chose to take an elven mate or not hardly mattered. There would be no returning from their sad numbers. It was the same story for many of the other Strange Folk.

It was too late. Nuada was too late. It mattered not if he gained control of the Golden Army now. Their world would still stagnate with humans or without. The Strange Folk's time was done…all that was left was to live their remaining lives in what peace extinction could offer.

"Even when he's dead, the man is still patronizing me." A voice, Director Manning's, interrupted Nuada's thoughts. Stopping in the hallway, Nuada noticed an open door not far ahead, a light shining through the opening.

"I doubt that was his intention in keeping this secret."

This voice Nuada recognized as belonging to Johann Krauss. The man's accent and mechanical pronunciation was not hard to identify.

"Oh no?" Director Manning objected, "It's not enough that I have a red ape and two snooty elves on my hands, now I'm going to have Glinda too."

Nuada, deciding this conversation held little importance, opted to ignore it and continue down the hall to his room. However, he could not help but hear more of the discussion as he approached.

"How did this Hale even know Professor Broom? I don't remember him ever talking about being in Salem." The Director asked of Krauss.

"I believe he was there during the Great Torment of '67, when the soul of Warlock William Barker arose to lay vengeance on those who–"

"Yeah, fine." Interrupted the Director, "But if he knew about this since the sixties, then why not tell us? Why not report it?"

Krauss paused a moment before answering, his tone uncertain when he did, "Perhaps he wanted to give the Fraulein a chance for a little quiet and little peace. Perhaps he did not think she was ready to join us. Perhaps she was in too fragile a state to handle the outside world. It could be for any hundred reasons given her tragic history. But now that Dr. Hale is dead, the Hexe will need a new home."

At this point Nuada was near to crossing in front of the doorway, but found himself slowing his steps. It was not his habit to spy, but the conversation intrigued him despite himself. Besides, if the humans had wished this to be private, then they should have closed the door.

"Why me? I run a sophisticated operation to neutralize any paranormal threat and keep the world safe from being torn apart by monsters, wizards, and creepy spidery things with lots of legs. I do not run a babysitting business!" Yelled Manning. Nuada could hear Krauss sigh to himself as he spoke to placate the irritated human.

"She does not have to be part of the team. All Professor Broom promised was that she would have a place to live should she ever need. We must uphold his promise. Besides, having a young Hexe live here could prove to be useful."

"I don't like it. Not one bit."

At this moment, Nuada crossed in front of the doorway. Having nothing to hide, Nuada's eyes met Manning's in that moment, the latter surprised to see him. Nuada could hardly miss the hate in human's voice as he continued.

"We have enough freaks in this place already."

Within moments, Nuada reached his room. Pressing in the key code, he entered as the door automatically opened. His suite was simple, basic, though he had over time collected some items from his realm thanks to his sister. It did not make the room any more of a comfortable environment, but it did some good in distracting Nuada from the offensively white washed walls.

Nuada pushed all thoughts of the events of the past hours aside. Undressing, he moved to the bathroom. He would bathe, then sleep, and think of nothing more. But as he later settled himself on top his bed, one final thought occurred to him.

Nuada knew that humans had many languages among their own kind. He himself knew a few, having picked them up over the years he spent in exile. German was not one that was ever necessary for him to learn, but even then, he recognized the word the mechanical man spoke.

Hexe.

It meant witch.


	2. A Strange Witch

Chapter 2; A Strange Witch:

Eve shifted uncomfortably, tugging down the hem of her dress. For the past few hours she had been studying its floral print, wondering why she had ever picked to wear such a thing. It was too childish on her, even more so with her knee socks and boots. Like a lost school girl. Dr. Hale had told her first impressions were dependent on looking as serious as you wanted to be taken as. Eve supposed she missed the mark this time.

Looking to her left, then her right, Eve studied the faces of the black clad agents. One a woman, one a man, with expressions set in stone. They had not said one word to her the entire car ride, making it more than awkward for Eve. Her wide hips did not help any, as she had to constantly shift herself away from the two to make certain they were not touching. It was made worse when her dress insisted on riding up. If mother could see her now, she would faint at the impropriety of it. But then, her mother would never have possibly thought that her daughter would end up here, even if she was good at predictions.

Thinking of her mother made Eve's memories stir like an animal starved for her attention. She forced them away, concentrating on the silly flowers of her dress again. Perhaps when she arrived she might have time to change into something more appropriate. Though, most of her clothes were girlish things like this. Dr. Hale never liked to throw anything away, so most of Eve's wardrobe had once belonged to the beloved doctor when she was a young woman in the sixties. Eve was not one to complain, but recently she wished to be a bit more with the times when it came to her wardrobe. She had a little money saved for emergencies that Dr. Hale had given her. Perhaps when she arrived at her new home she might boldly venture to go shopping.

Speaking of her destination…

"Pardon me, are we nearly there?" Eve asked when she could no longer endure the silence.

"Soon, Miss Winters." The female agent on her left answered without looking towards her. Eve smiled politely.

"Ah…good. Great."

She looked over to her right, the male agent pulling out a device she recognized as a cellular phone. He proceeded to –oh, what was it called– text? She was not certain, but chanced to make small talk with him like Dr. Hale had taught her too.

"So, do you enjoy your work?"

The agent did not so much as glance away from the screen of his device. Eve slouched defeatedly into herself.

"Right. Quiet."

Eve went back to looking down at herself, focusing on the large creature folded in her arms. Cradled like a babe was a sleeping toad, a grotesque thing of knotted warts and wet, green skin. It snored peacefully, and Eve felt herself grin. Bartholomew wasn't much of a familiar, but he was hers. At least she was being allowed to take him with her, for it would have broken her heart if she had to leave him behind. Of course, when Dr. Hale first found her, Eve would have much preferred a cat like she had before when she lived with mother. With Dr. Hale being allergic however, it simply was not possible. Ravens took too much training, and owls were rather stupid creatures despite their reputation. At least with a toad she would never have to worry about insects pestering her. Besides, when he was in the right mood Bartholomew croaked as beautifully as birdsong.

Just as Eve was considering attempting to ask again how much longer, the agent at her right spoke.

"We are here now, Miss Winters."

Leaning past the gentleman, Eve looked out the window of the vehicle. The light of the late evening restricted her view, but she managed to notice a large, iron wrought fence with a sign posted on a pillar.

"A waste management plant?" Eve read out loud, unable to help the disappointment in her voice.

The vehicle pulled up in front of an isolated building with a grass knoll before it dedicated to a small fire which sat atop of a raised pedestal. An offering Eve observed, and nodded at the cleverness of it. The building itself however made little sense to her. If she could remember her history correctly, its frame was similar to that of the Art Deco movement, and yet the material of the building looked new. Fortified even and rather unwelcoming. Stepping out of the vehicle when it stopped at the side entrance did little to assuage Eve of this feeling. Its gray slate coloring, small windows, and desolate face all whispered such dreadful things to her.

Terrible things lay within. Sadness and monsters.

 _Hecate preserve me._

Eve felt lost in front of the steps that led to the doorway. A small army of BPRD agents came out of the building to help her companions with the large amount of luggage. Eve had not insisted on taking very much of her own, but there were things of Dr. Hale she would not abandon. Boxes full of her research papers, crates gently harboring vials and potions, and potted plants of both strange and delicate natures. Grief crept into her as she glanced over the familiar items, but she swallowed the sob that threatened to come out.

Seeing an agent accidentally drop one of the cases, Eve felt a panic rise in her.

"Oh, uh, please, could you be careful with–"

"Miss Winters?" Someone spoke behind her. Turning, Eve tried her best to smile, wanting to make a good impression.

"Y-yes?"

She was met with a man of average height, build, and appearance. He had brown hair that was combed to the side, and an open face that spoke of the man's honesty. Eve unconsciously reached out, testing the air around the man. He was a good soul. Eve forced herself to relax, reminding herself that these were Dr. Hale's allies.

"I'm Agent John Myers." He grinned politely before gesturing to the building, "And welcome to the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense."

When he turned back to her, it seemed his eyes finally adjusted to the dark outside. The agent stared at her hair for just a moment, as to be expected, but recovered quickly to meet her eyes.

Eve, out of habit, curtseyed. "Well met Agent Myers."

To Agent Myers's credit he took the strange formality on her part well. Or, at least, he only raised an eyebrow at Eve before continuing.

"I know it is late, but Director Manning would like to meet with you. He just has a few questions and then you can get settled in."

"Of course. Thank you. Quick question. Is he human?" Eve rushed out hastily before she could censure herself.

"…yes." Agent Myers replied hesitantly.

"Good. That's good." Eve sighed before explaining quickly, "It's just the way Professor Broom had described him in his letters he sounded like a ferocious hobgoblin."

"I see." Agent Myers said with a laugh, "Well, he's harmless, I assure you."

Eve decided she would like this man. Or try to at least. He was smiling at her now, and she could see he had straight and white teeth. Narrowing her eyes, she took a step closer to get a look at his ears.

"Are you human to?" She asked, curiosity getting the better of her yet again.

"I think so."

Now Eve was smiling, albeit somewhat bashfully, "My apologies. It is just in my experience, things are not always what they seem."

"Then you will fit in here perfectly." Agent Myers once more gestured to the entrance of the building, "Follow me."

With little choice, Eve did so. The foyer of the building was large and imposing, with a symbol of a hand gripping a sword on the floor. Eve was lost in her study of it before she noticed that Agent Myers had led her into a lift. The doors closed behind them and Eve held on more tightly to Bartholomew. This caused the creature to wake and croak in protest at the tight embrace. Eve ignored him and Agent Myer's odd look as she concentrated on her breathing. Dr. Hale told her never to let herself panic. Just concentrate on her lungs, on her heart beat, on anything else other than the sinking feeling that came with the decent. She was not trapped. It was alright. She would see day again.

She just wish she had been forewarned that the facility was underground. No matter. Eve would adjust. She would have to.

Nevertheless Eve was grateful when the lift opened up to a long hallway. Agent Myers' navigated it confidently, leading Eve down twists and turns she could never hope to remember. She would catch glimpses at strange objects being moved around by agents. They passed rooms with glass walls allowed her to glimpse at oddities even she had not dreamed of. From many she could sense only mischief, some malevolence, but most of all she sensed the ages they had lived through. As for the agents themselves, she only recognized humans among them. To her memory Professor Broom talked of beings belonging to the Other Kind, but perhaps she would meet them later.

Eve brought her attention to Agent Myers as he stopped in front of an door with the label 'Director Manning' in bold lettering.

"Come in." Answered the gruff voice to Myers's knock. He opened the door for Eve, letting her step into an ordinary office. A desk, some shelves, and filing cabinets. Nothing to hint that the person who used it was head of an organization of paranormal resources. The man himself fit the room. Middle aged, long faced, receding hairline, and a nice suit. He was looking over some papers in front of him, looking up only when Myers closed the door behind him.

"Ah, Miss Winters. Welcome. I was hoping to get a word with you." Despite his greeting, Eve got the feeling he was not very friendly. Extending her powers, she could feel the industry whirring in his mind. His heart and blood were mechanical, though beating with good intentions. A man tired of the world yet trying his best to fix it his way. Eve could not tell if he was a good man or a bad man, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"How was your trip?" He asked her, forcing Eve to pull herself out of the veil of her powers. Not knowing what to say, she kept it short.

"Long."

"And what do you think of our little Bureau here so far?" He began to rifle about his desk, pulling out a lighter. He then patted his suit jacket for a cigar.

"It is…nice." Eve hesitated as she watched him light the foul thing. The insecurity in her voice made Director Manning finally meet her eyes. He seemed to be scrutinizing her, judging her worth and character as she had just done herself moments ago. It seemed he was just as inconclusive as she was. He did, however, glare at Bartholomew.

Noticing that Agent Myers had just sat himself down, Director Manning frowned at the subordinate.

"Myers."

"Yes sir?"

"Leave. Now." The Director tersely commanded.

"Oh, yeah." Agent Myers replied sheepishly. He gave Eve a sympathetic look before he left her alone with the Director. Eve felt less comfortable without the agent in the room, but she did not have much time to miss him before the Director continued.

"Miss Winters, I'm going to cut to the point."

 _Oh no._ Eve panicked internally. The Director did not seem to notice her paling face as he started into a monologue.

"Day in, day out, I've got to worry about a huge demon, a fish man, a pyromaniac, a walking dustbowl, and two of Santa's helpers. If they destroy a building, it's my problem. If a bystander gets hurt in their crossfire, it's my problem. If one of them sneezes, it's my problem. _You_ ,"

He paused to point at Eve with the glowing end of his cigar.

"You, I do not want to make my problem."

Eve did not know if she should reply or nod or something. She chose to be silent, praying that the fumes of the cigar would not poison her and Bartholomew.

"You are not part of the team. You are here because I will keep the promises of Professor Broom, however irritating. And you will earn your keep by acting as an advisor when we come across something in your expertise."

"I," Eve muttered when it was clear the Director wanted her to respond, "I understand."

The small hope Eve had thus far managed to cling to died out. Despite the building's appearance, despite its dangerous curios, she had hoped this place still might be a home. She remembered first meeting Professor Broom, a kind and gentle man if ever there was. When he spoke it was warm and familiar, like a hearth. He had seen many strange and sad things in his time, but still conversed with Eve as if they were already old friends. Eve had grieved his passing when Dr. Hale told her of it. But still, she had hoped his goodwill would continue within the organization he had been a part of. It seemed that she was wrong.

Director Manning continued, either not noticing or not caring for the crestfallen look that overcame Eve.

"You will be given an access card to most of our levels except our high security areas. And given your…past, I thought it best if you have your own room rather than staying in the barracks with the agents."

"That is very thoughtful of you sir." Eve lowered her head respectfully, "Thank you."

"No sarcasm. I get enough sarcasm from Hellboy."

Eve frowned. She believed it to be physically impossible for her to do sarcasm. Dr. Hale had tried to tell her of its semantics, but Eve could only take words at their face value. But she would keep this information to herself.

"Yes sir."

It seemed their conversation was soon to end. Shifting from one foot to another, Eve decided to voice her principal concern.

"If I may ask, how much do the others know about me?"

"As of right now?" Director Manning shrugged, "Nothing. Most of them do not even know you are here, let alone going to live with us."

Eve did not know to be relieved or disappointed by this. Professor Broom had bragged to Dr. Hale about his associates, claiming that she and Eve would like them if ever the opportunity to meet them presented itself. That they did not yet know of her made her feel even more like an intruding stranger. Still, it was best if Eve exercised precaution.

"Might I request that it remains like this?" She asked timidly, "Not them not knowing about my being here, just them not knowing… _about_ me."

"You mean you don't want everyone knowing that you killed nearly a hundred people in a fit of rage and madness? Go figure."

Eve was certain what the Director had said was meant to be sarcastic, and she did not like it. She decided to not like him as well.

"Yes. Among other things." She swallowed nervously.

Again, the Director shrugged, "I will make no promises, but, if it never becomes relevant then perhaps it can go unmentioned."

Eve supposed that was the best she could expect from the Director. After all, this man had agreed to take her in despite his wishes. He was giving her a place to stay, even if it was not the home she hoped for. A roof, some quiet, some peace. Honestly, it was more than Eve probably deserved.

The Director stood himself up, walking over to his door. He gripped the handle, but did not open it just yet.

"We'll have formal introductions to the others tomorrow. I'm not sure how they'll take it, but it seems we have no choice."

Eve was about to thank the Director when he tugged the door open. The hall was empty except for the agent who had showed her to the Director's office.

"Myers will show you to your room now."

Eve left the office as quickly as she could, joining Agent Myers at his side. The Director shut the door directly behind her, and Eve was relieved to be out of his presence. Agent Myers looked down at her and gave her a comforting smile.

"Don't worry. He's that way with everybody."

"How charming." Eve muttered. Wait? Was that sarcasm? Perhaps she was not so hopeless at it after all.

"Come on." Agent Myers motioned, "Your room is just a few floors below. It's not much but…well, it's not much."

Eve felt herself laugh, the first time she had done so in weeks.

"I am sure it will be satisfactory, thank you."

"You're welcome." Agent Myers told her, and she was certain he was genuine. The rest of their time together was spent in silence. Eve looked everywhere, observing what she could. The inside was much like the outside; cold, grey, and built for usefulness rather than aesthetic. Everything looked the same. Eve could only hope Agent Myers would give her a map to this place.

Eventually they reached a door with a keypad next to it. Handing her a piece of paper, the agent told her that this was her own secret passcode and she should guard it carefully if she valued her privacy. Thanking him, Eve typed in the numbers while he looked away. When done, the door hissed open, and Eve already hated it. Entering the room she noticed her things had already been moved in.

Saying goodbye, Agent Myers left her. Eve struggled to close the door, and when she succeeded she was not sure if she had locked it properly. She hated modern technology.

Eve set Bartholomew down, and the toad dragged himself away to the nearest dark corner available. She made for the bed, laying on top of the itchy wool blanket they had provided her. Inhaling, it smelled of nothing. Not even dust. The room Dr. Hale had given her always smelled strongly of lavender, though to this day Eve never knew why. How she missed it already.

Before she could stop herself, Eve could feel tears stinging at her eyes. She had swallowed her grief all day long, and now alone she mourned. She mourned for Dr. Hale, her dearest friend. She mourned for Professor Broom, for his beautiful promises. She mourned for her mother, for her sisters. So much loss, and yet she was still here. And here, in this cold, unwelcoming place she would stay.

Always.


	3. First Impressions

**Chapter 3; First Impressions:**

Eve shot up from her bed. Her body shuddered, her lungs ached. It felt as if she had been screaming, her throat raw. She wanted to cry out but knew Dr. Hale would not come to soothe her from the nightmare she had awoken from. Holding onto herself, Eve wiped away the mist in her eyes before they could become tears.

"The same. Every night."

Paralyzed, naked, cold with fear. The nightmare was always the same. She was in the dark place, trapped, that vile man smiling down at her. Glancing to her wrists almost felt the chains burning into her flesh. They had been removed long ago, but she could still remember the weight of them. The scars they caused were fading, reduced to pink lines across her wrists. She had matching scars on her ankles too, but she did not bother to look. Scared to dwell on the past, Eve forced herself to get up from bed.

A glance at the clock by her bedside told her that it was sometime in the early morning. She had always been an early riser, though with the late night she had it felt unbearable to be awake already. Still, there was no chance of her going back to sleep now. Heading to the bathroom, she stripped to take a shower. As much as she complained about modern technology, indoor plumbing and heating was a miracle she was continuously thankful for.

Dressing herself in a yellow sundress, knee socks and her favorite ankle boots, Eve began to hunt for some kind of sweater. The dress was lovely, but it had straps that left her shoulders bare. With her upbringing, she had to constantly remind herself that fashion, like the times, had changed. It took Dr. Hale some years before she could get Eve to wear anything that showed her ankles. Eve had come a long way over the years, even if she only wore dresses still. She did not like showing her scars to anyone if it could be avoided though. It never went well to try and explain them in a way that did not make for a very uncomfortable conversation.

After a few minutes of searching, Eve groaned. Glancing around the mess she had made in tearing open the cases that held her clothes, she felt lost.

"Bartholomew, have you seen my box of sweaters?"

From somewhere among the cases, boxes, and potted plants, a croak could be heard. Following the sound, Eve rescued her familiar from a pile of books that had fallen on top of him. Lifting him up, she examined him for damage.

"You alright?"

" _Croak_."

Eve frowned, setting her familiar down.

"No need to use that tone with me."

The toad looked at her with his big, bug eyes. He had a permanent frown on his large lips, like he was always disappointed in Eve and the world. When he had been a tadpole he had been cute, but something happened. Now he was the size of a bloated cat and as curmudgeon as harpy. Giving her a hard look, Bartholomew waddled away from Eve to the shadows of the room.

"Should have gotten a raven." She huffed to herself.

Standing up, Eve observed the mess she had made in the bedroom. Her things did not take up so much space, but the effects of Dr. Hale would not fit in here with her. While not lavish or large, the suite was quite lovely. The bathroom was beside the bedroom which had a queen sized bed and a dresser provided. Parted by an archway was a sitting room where the entrance was along with a small kitchenette. Even with this much space it would be difficult to store Dr. Hale's items properly, especially the plants. Perhaps if she converted the sitting room into a study? She would not have much call for a sitting room anyway, seeing as she was not planning on having guests.

Flipping her long hair back, Eve went over to the front door of her suite.

"Right. Time for some adjustments."

Spreading her arms, Eve called forth her magic.

"What do you think Bartholomew? Blue or green?"

The toad did not voice his opinion, but Eve already set herself to work. The white washed walls offended her, and she wanted something a little bit cozier. Snapping her fingers, the white changed to blue, then green. Frowning, Eve considered the two.

"On second thought, I think a nice heather is in order."

Snapping her fingers a third time, the sitting room transformed to a soft purple. Eve liked it. Turning to the shelves, she hummed in thought. There were only two, and they looked as if they would not be able to take a layer of dust without collapsing from the weight of it.

"Now, these will never do."

Concentrating, she envisioned the shelves she wished for. Something study, something natural. Having the image in mind, she pointed at the shelves.

" _Quercus crescere_." She commanded, and the shelves began to shake and tremble. Within a moment, roots and twigs sprouted from the wood of the shelves. Growing and expanding, the oak branches layered themselves in a pattern over the wall with enough space for all of Eve's books and Dr. Hale's papers. She liked it, though wondered if she might have to water it now.

"Better. So much better."

Eve was about to set herself on changing one of the lounge chairs she had been given into a desk – a simple, yet, oddly complicated spell – when a knock came to her door.

"Miss Winters? It's Agent Myers."

"Oh!" Eve panicked, "Um, just a minute!"

Eve ran back to the bedroom. She tore through the boxes of clothes until she succeeded on finding the one dedicated to her collection of sweaters. Settling on a grey cardigan to match her knee socks, she slipped it on, making sure the sleeves covered her wrists.

"Enter." She said a little breathless when she ran back to the sitting room. From the other side of the door she could hear Agent Myers laugh.

"I can't. I don't know your passcode."

"Oh!" Eve reddened, coming over to press the keys. It slide open after her third attempt, and she offered Agent Myers a bashful smile. "My apologies, I forget how pervasive technology has become. I remember the days in which a simple latch was enough."

"You sound like my grandmother." He teased. Seeing Eve frown he rushed to continue. "Not that that's a bad thing! She's nice."

Eve nodded in understanding. "It is alright. I am quite old fashioned."

"Really?" Agent Myers doubted, and Eve shrugged.

"I was raised in another time you could say."

 _Too much!_ Screamed that little voice inside Eve's head. Quickly she tried to cover her careless words.

"Which is to say that Dr. Hale liked to keep things simple. The most complicated piece of machinery we had at our disposal was an electric can opener. It was a sheltered life."

"That's…that's interesting." Nodded Agent Myers, though he was looking at her strangely now. He seemed to be aware of it too, for he quickly cleared his throat and gestured behind her.

"Wow. Lots of cool stuff there."

Eve turned to look herself. Yes, she supposed to a normal human the items might seem fascinating. The crates she had in that room were mostly filled with her potion supplies. Vials of blood, dried herb bundles, a few jars with newt eyes. Actually, those she should really put in the ice box. Pointing to one item in particular, Agent Myers' face lit up.

"Is that a real cauldron? Like in Harry Potter?"

"Harry who? Is that some kind of ceramic company?" Eve frowned in confusion. Agent Myers laughed again, and Eve did not like that it was at her expense.

"Wow. You really do sound like my grandmother."

Eve tried not to look upset at his joke. She knew she was not knowledgeable about this era she had awoken to, but there was no call to jape about it. Eve's hands went to her hair, suddenly aware of how the wet and tangled locks appeared. She probably looked like a drowned old dame. Its color had always made her feel insecure, but now more than ever she wished she had taken Dr. Hale's advice and dyed it a more natural color. She began to braid it, not knowing what else to do with it.

"Is there a reason you came here?" She said more unpleasantly than she intended.

"Oh!" Agent Myers started, "Director is gathering the team for you to meet them. In the library."

"R-right now?" Eve balked.

"Well, we have time to grab a latte or something if you're hungry." Without waiting for her answer, Agent Myers turned to lead her down the hall.

Eve, seeing no choice, struggled to close the door, cursing under her breath when it did not obey. Striking the panel she hissed a hex, and the door jumped and slammed itself shut. Agent Myers glanced back at her worriedly, and Eve quickly tried to think of something to say.

"Latte? Is that the beverage with steamed milk?"

"Oh boy." Laughed Agent Myers again.

* * *

Nuada followed the line of the BPRD's top agents as they proceeded to the library. Krauss had spoken to them this morning saying Director Manning wished to converse with them all. Nuada had to wonder what the man meant to say, for if it was a mission surely they would meet in one of the conference rooms. It was even more curious to him that he was invited along, for normally he was not told of the assignments until they were preparing to leave. He was informed only as much as he needed to be and was left out of any discussions or investigative matters. This was satisfactory to him. But when he felt the presence of his sister already awaiting them in the library, his curiosity grew.

"Nuala." The elven prince greeted. His sister smiled, coming over to embrace him.

"Good morrow. Are you well?" She asked when they parted. They had not spoken since that time in the gym, and Nuada could see his sister wished make certain he was not angry at her. Not wanting to worry her, he kept his answer simple.

"Yes. Thank you for the books you had sent for."

Her smile grew, but Nuada could not silence his curiosity, "Are you here to advise or accompany Abraham?"

As he spoke, he looked towards the amphibious man. Abe was standing near to the mechanical man, speaking on some matter though his eyes drifted over towards Nuala. Nuada was still uncertain about Abraham, though he knew he was an honorable being. In regards to his sister, Nuada still did not believe him to be worthy. But Nuala had obviously made her choice when it came to who her heart and loyalties belonged to.

"I am not certain." Confessed Nuala, "The mechanical man, Krauss, requested I come."

"I wonder what could be so important that both of us are acquired to attend." Nuada speculated, nodding to Hellboy as the demon and his mate stepped closer.

"He's gonna say it." Said Hellboy.

"Red." Liz sighed, obviously not in the mood for whatever he was referring to. The demon did not notice her tone however.

"Bet you a beer, he's gonna say it."

At that moment Director Manning finally entered the library. He glanced around at those gathered as if he would rather be anyplace else in the world.

"I suppose you all are wondering why I gathered you together here today."

Hellboy raised his hands in triumph before giving Liz a smug look. "He said it."

"God damn it Red." Liz groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Is it a mission?" Abe stepped forward to ask. Nuada noticed this put him closer to Nuala, and the two smiled at one another. Nuada turned to give his full attention to Director Manning, not wishing to see the lovelorn gazes the two were exchanging.

"No. Not as such." He sighed before stating, "We have a guest staying here with us."

"A guest? Since when do we have guests?" Frowned Hellboy.

"Since Professor Broom goes around making promises to take in wayward witches." Spoke the Director bitterly.

"Professor Broom?"

"Father?"

"Witches?"

Asked Abe, Hellboy, and Liz all at once.

"Only one witch to be exact." Krauss interjected to clarify, "It seemed when Professor Broom spent some time in Salem, he met an old friend. A Dr. Jillian Hale by name, the top expert on witchcraft here in America."

Hellboy nodded in recognition.

"I heard father talk about her a few times. She helped us with the Great Torment of '67, when the soul of Warlock–"

"Warlock William Barker arose to lay vengeance. Yeah. I know." Director Manning interrupted irritably. Krauss continued, drawing everyone's attention to him again.

"They wrote letters to one another, sharing theories and experiences, conferring as colleagues. In one of these letters, Dr. Hale mentions that she had taken a talented witch under her wing so to speak. And it would seem Professor Broom had promised that, in the event should Dr. Hale pass away, he would care for the young witch in her stead here at the BPRD."

"And?" Abe asked after a moment. Krauss lowered his head respectfully.

"And Dr. Hale has passed. A month ago to be precise. And since Professor Broom is no longer with us, his promise falls to us."

"Really? Why?" Asked Liz, "Not that having a witch around wouldn't be interesting, but we're not a daycare."

"And yet I constantly get reports about your little demons ransacking the kitchen." Sneered Director Manning. The air around the woman suddenly became heated as her temper flared.

"Watch it." She growled, sparks flying from her hands.

"We have to fulfill Professor Broom's promise. Or more, his oath. He signed a contract to Dr. Hale." Kraus went over to one of the tables in the library. Picking up an old parchment he held it up for all to see. Nuada's eyes widened in astonishment when he recognized it, but his sister spoke before he could.

"That is a Pact of Blood." Nuala gasped, "If your Professor Broom signed this, it could only mean that he meant to fulfill it on pain of his soul."

"Yeah, that sounds like father." Laughed Hellboy, though he now looked at the parchment peculiarly.

Clearly he had not been aware of any of this. Nuada knew only a little of the human that had raised the demon. From what he had learned the man seemed to be quite knowledgeable for a mortal, having founded this very organization. More intriguing then the actions of the Professor was the news of this witch. Nuada had known a few in his time, old crones that worked for gold in exchange for their art. Some were human, but a few had the blood of the Strange Folk within them, the very source of their powers. Many were nothing more than soothsayers who could read bones, but if this witch was worth singing a Blood Pact over she might have something resembling power. Nuada was quickly becoming intrigued.

"So…we have a witch." Shrugged Liz, "And just who is this witch?"

"A Fraulein Genevieve Winters. Though I believe she prefers to be called Eve."

Hellboy snorted a laugh, "Cute."

"And what else? Does she have any particular skills?" Asked Abe, obviously delighted with the news, "Potions? Alchemy? Glamour? Or perhaps–"

The door to the library opened. A human, one Nuada recognized as Agent Myers, stepped in. Seeing everyone turn towards him, he hesitated.

"Are we early?"

"Not at all. Come in, please." Spoke Krauss, gesturing the man inside. The agent obeyed, and following him was another. They came to the middle of the room, Agent Myers stepping aside to give everyone a perfect view of his companion.

She was an odd creature, obviously the witch they had been eager to meet. Nuada could feel the pulse of magic within her, like a second heartbeat. She was human enough to be sure. From his own expectations Nuada thought she would be an older woman, but she appeared to be younger than Miss Sherman. She looked almost like a child with her wide cinnamon colored eyes and bridge of freckles. But her wide hips and slender neck spoke of womanhood. She was dressed modestly, hiding herself shyly behind Agent Myers as if he was her shield. This behavior was not what was so odd about the woman however. No.

She had hair the color of starlight. Silver, as one might come by with great age, though clearly she was not timeworn. It seemed to be her natural color, her eyebrows matching in hue. To add to its oddity it was long, impossibly so. She had it tied in a thick braid which nearly trailed to the floor, the tip brushing over the carpet as she finally decided to step in front of Agent Myers. Her eyes darted back and forth over the others, as curious about them as they were her.

Clearing his throat, the mechanical man was the first to speak.

"Fraulein Winters. It is a delight to meet you. I am Johann Krauss." He bowed to the woman chivalrously. Anyone else would have been taken aback by the man's corporeal state, but the woman only smiled and curtseyed in return.

"The delight is mine." Her voice was docile and soft, obviously charmed by the mechanical man.

"I have heard of the research Dr. Hale has done of the Salem Trials. Superb work. Dare I say, brilliant." Krauss praised, quickly adding, "And might I offer my condolences for her passing."

The witch nodded solemnly, her voice becoming tight with a sadness that she tried to hide, "Thank you. It would have pleased her to hear your approval. It was her life's work."

Krauss, stepping up beside the young woman, took it upon himself to introduce everyone to her.

"The Director you know, and this, if you could not tell for yourself, is Hellboy." He pointed to the demon. The witch took in his appearance as easily as she had Krauss.

"Hey." The demon said.

"Hello." She replied pleasently.

"And this is Abraham Sapien, our clairsentience and resident amphibious man." Abe waved to the witch, she smiled in return.

"Elizabeth Sherman, a pyrokinetic."

The dark haired woman nodded at the witch, "Nice to meet you."

Here, the woman's polite bearing left. A tremor came over her, and Nuada found it strange she would waver when it came to the most human appearing of the group. It was obvious to him the witch was afraid of the demon's mate, though why he could not begin to fathom. The others seemed to notice the shift in the witch's demeanor as well, though she tried to cover it up by nodding back to Miss Sherman. Krauss moved on to gesture to Nuada and his sister.

"And our royals of the Clan Bethmoora, Prince–"

Again the woman surprised Nuada, as the moment her eyes met his she gasped. She nearly threw herself to the ground to kneel before the two of them, head bowed reverently.

"Prince Nuada and Princess Nuala. Forgive this humble servant for not recognizing you."

"You know us?" Nuala stepped forward, just as surprised as her brother over the witch's behavior.

"I know of you and your kind. I have grown up with the knowledge of the Sons of the Earth since I was a babe, your highness."

"Miss Winters here is the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter." Krauss explained when he saw the confusion on everyone's faces. The others nodded in recognition, understanding its significance. Rare was the ability to see the Strange Folk when they went in their guise without some aid. A human, let alone a witch, gifted with this ability naturally was a surprise. That she recognized Nuada and his sister was even more unexpected, and Nuada did not know if he appreciated her reverence or was disgusted by it.

"I am impressed. But please, do not kneel on ceremony for us." Nuala spoke gently, just as uncomfortable as Nuada with this attention. The witch rose and smiled as if Nuala had blessed her and all her descendants.

 _"You are most kind, highness."_ She thanked in different tongue. Nuada's eyes widened in shock.

 _"You know our tongue?"_ He asked her, the cadence and rhythm of his native language strange to him considering who he spoke it to.

" _A little_." The witch changed back to English clumsily, "I know only a few phrases of Daoine."

She was practically beaming that she had managed to impress them, and Nuada schooled his expression. This witch was indeed strange, and Nuada did not like her ability to surprise him. In all his years he had not heard the language of the elves perverted by a human. He did not even think it possible for one to annunciate it, and though her accent was appalling, she could speak it well enough.

"It pleases us to know there are still some humans who know of our kind." Nuala smiled as she turned to Nuada, "Is that not so, brother?"

He did not answer her, looking over the witch severely. The young woman withered under the look, her eyes breaking away from his timidly. The silence that followed Nuala's question made the others uncomfortable, none more so than the witch. It was Hellboy that managed to break it.

"So, what's with the hair?"

"Red!" Liz shouted at him. Happy for the change in conversation, the witch smiled to the pyrokinetic.

"It is alright, Miss Sherman. I am used to such queries. This," She said with a gesture towards her braid, "occurred when I performed a spell. A…mishap, one could say."

"A mishap? Does that happen often?" Abe tiled his head curiously. The witch looked panicked as she tried to explain.

"Somewhat. I mean no! I mean…often, yes."

"Well, that wasn't vague." Muttered Hellboy. Krauss, once again, interpreted for them all.

"Miss Winters is still an apprentice. She was learning her craft under Dr. Hale, though sadly, her education has been left unfinished what with her passing."

"I was under the impression that witches learned their craft from their families." Nuala spoke up. Krauss nodded.

"Normally they do, but Miss Winter's family has sadly–"

"Has sadly decided not to carry the tradition on." Interjected the witch, "Father says magic no longer has a place in this world. But I still wished to learn, so Dr. Hale took me in to teach me. And now I'm…I'm here."

Nuada frowned at the witch. Her explanation left a lot to be desired. If she simply wished to learn the art of her ancestors there were plenty of other witches to find. Even if her family no longer practiced, they would still have ties to a coven. None of the members of the BPRD had much experience with preforming magic, as much as they made it their business. That she came here to learn was odd. The woman was suspicious to say the least. It seemed to Nuada that she had a lot to hide and no skill at lying with which to hide it. The others too were looking at her curiously, but once more it was Hellboy who spoke up.

"So you're still 'in training'?"

"Yes?" The young woman shied under his harsh tone.

"Great." The demon huffed, "Well that makes you useless."

The woman balked at this, looking offended. She swallowed her pride quick enough as Director Manning finally spoke up.

"Right, well. With introductions out of the way, I think we should get to real business."

"A mission?" Turned Hellboy, sounding hopeful. The Director nodded.

"Yes. It seems there is a werewolf den that has been quite active of late in Montana."

"Montana. Never been."

"I hear they have nice parks." Liz smirked. The Director ignored the pair of them.

"Yes, but unfortunately, it seems they've been eating their neighbor's cattle and driving out the local wildlife. People have so far blamed it all on the reintroduction of wolves outside of the national parks, but we don't know how much longer they'll buy that."

"Why don't you tell them it was swamp gas?" Suggested the demon, this earned him an unamused look from the human.

"Have they hurt anybody?" Asked Abe.

"Besides some cattle, not yet. But it seems only a matter of time given their behavior. What we want to do is set up a –" The Director stopped himself, looking past the others. Glancing in the same direction, Nuada noticed that the witch was still with them. She had moved over to the shelves, scanning the spines of the books lined before her. She was completely oblivious that the group had their attention back onto her.

"Miss Winters." The Director barked.

"Hm?"

"Your presence no longer required here."

The woman frowned, unsure what he referred to. She blushed when she finally comprehended.

"Oh! Of course. My apologies." She laughed nervously, stepping away from the shelves, "I suppose I shall retire to my room then."

Nuada and the others watched her leave, Agent Myers following quickly after her. Once out of ear shot, the demon looked to his mate.

"Seriously, what is with her? She talks like a pilgrim."

"I find her intriguing. It will be pleasant to have a witch here I think." Spoke Nuala to Abe, and the amphibious man nodded.

As for Hellboy and Liz, they did not seem so ready to agree. And, for once, Nuada sided with them. The witch was strange and clearly had her secrets. Her coming to the BPRD was in itself strange. If she was a practiced witch there might be some place for her, but an apprentice was just as Hellboy said; useless. Then why would this Professor Broom insist on making a Blood Pact to ensure her care? It simply did not add up. And though Nuada did not care for the workings of the organization that ensured his defeat, he found himself becoming undesirably interested in the witch. He simply did not trust her. Though, that was the same of everyone here. Including his own sister. Perhaps he was simply seeing more in the witch than there was.

The Director called for everyone's attention back onto himself before continuing, and Nuada decided to put the young woman from his mind.


	4. Dangerous Creatures

**Chapter 4; Dangerous Creatures:**

So...uh, it's been over a year and a half since I updated this. I have no excuse except that I got distracted by other projects and I really lost inspiration for this one. But I came back to it and fell in love with writing for it once again. I changed a lot of the things I had planned for this, scaling back some future plot points and adding some new elements in. But it will give us the opportunity to enjoy a nice slow burn relationship between our two leads, Nuada and Eve. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story and wished for it to continue. I will try my best to give you what you lovelies deserve, and I hope that you will continue to enjoy it.

* * *

"And this…is the cafeteria!" Myers announced, sweeping his arm in a grand gesture.

Eve tried to smile at the wide space filled with tables and chairs and a salad bar, but she couldn't muster the same enthusiasm as her tour guide. Myers, sensing her underwhelmed awe, chuckled awkwardly.

"Trust me, it might not look fancy, but the food is pretty decent."

"I'll take your word for it."

Myers laughed again, turning Eve's smile into a more genuine one. She sensed the agent was indulging her by laughing so heartily at everything she said, but she found she liked him for it. It was nice to make someone laugh. It was because of this quality of Myers that she was beginning to feel comfortable around him.

Well, as comfortable as Eve could be in her new environment filled with strangers.

It had been three days since Eve had come to the Bureau, and she was no more at home than the first night she arrived. Myers finally had the time to make good on his promise to give her a tour of the compound and introduce her to the agents he knew. Eve even dressed up for the occasion in her favorite blue dress and white sweater, going through the trouble of braiding her pale white hair up to make her appear a bit more normal.

But while the tour was going well, the introductions were not. Eve had met many so-called agents, but they weren't like Myers. They saw Eve as another oddity, another creature they had to tiptoe around because it was their job to work with things like her. She could tell by their curt nods and stiff replies that they were not going to be social with her any time soon. Eve did not hold this against them, as she could only imagine difficult their jobs must be, so she tried not to be disappointed.

It was just…while Eve knew she could never find another friend like Dr. Hale, she had hoped to connect with a few others than just Myers. Her hopes for the team were still there, as they were mostly of the Other Kind. If anyone were to understand her ways it would be them, and she already felt she knew them so well. Specifically, Hellboy. He was the one Professor Broom wrote much on, detailing his adopted son's feats and little quirks as any doting parent might. Eve promised herself, next time they met, she would try to make a better impression upon the demon. Though, perhaps Abraham Sapien would be a better choice of acquaintance since he seemed closer to her in personality from what she heard about him from Meyers. As for Elizabeth Sherman…no, Eve would not be comfortable around that woman for a long time, if ever.

 _It is unfortunate that one of them is a pyrokinetic. I wished Professor Broom had mentioned that in his letters…he knew I was afraid of -_

"Well, you can always leave the compound to go shopping for food if you prefer to cook for yourself." Myers went on to say, interrupting Eve's thoughts, "There's a nice farmers market only ten miles down the road. I can arrange for you to get a car."

Eve chuckled in embarrassment.

"I cannot drive," She admitted. Honestly, after all these years she still somehow couldn't manage to get approved for a driver's license. Even after trying to enchant the car to obey her. Instead she only managed to make it sentient and it ran away with a pickup truck. Dr. Hale didn't mind it so much, as she preferred walking anyway, although that didn't stop her from teasing Eve about it for a couple of decades.

"Oh! In that case, there is a bus stop nearby." Myers suggested before he shrugged somewhat bashfully, "Or I could take you down. There are some pretty good restaurants in that area if we want to stop for lunch too."

"I do not know. I do not like crowded places very much. My powers are a bit... _sporadic_ sometimes." Eve glanced away in shame, missing look of disappointment on the agent's face.

"Well, maybe once you get used to this place. Come on, plenty more to see." Myers ushered her back into the hall. She followed after him eagerly. He was quiet for some time, and sensing something was amiss, Eve tried to think of something nice to say.

"I want to thank you again, Agent Myers. I really do appreciate this tour." She said for what was possibly the fifth time, causing Agent Myers to smile and idly scratch the back of his head.

"No problem. Took me a few weeks to learn the layout when I first arrived. Trust me, you don't want to take a wrong turn in this place."

Eve nodded in agreement. This place was a maze of concrete and hallways, and despite her powers, Eve was not blessed with a sense of direction. She had managed to survive the three days by remaining holed up in her room with a few snacks she had packed for the trip over, but now she was going to have to leave it if she wanted to eat.

 _Unless, of course, I manage to learn how to make the microwave obey my_ _commands,_ She considered thoughtfully, _Perhaps a simple spell might do the trick…_

"But, you know," went on Myers, "If you wanted a map, you could have just asked for one. That thing is kind of weirding me out."

Eve frowned in confusion, but when Myers pointed to her left she realized what was so 'weirding'. A hexed parchment, quill, and inkwell floated beside her, pausing in their work at their being mentioned. The quill had been loyally scribbling everything it saw in great detail, labeling rooms and correctly charting the place in proper dimensions to make a map for Eve. Of course, while this was perfectly normal for Eve, the floating objects had been getting a few odd looks from some of the passersby.

 _You'd think they would be used to these sorts of things given their line of work though. Humans are so peculiar._

"They're harmless." She chuckled, hoping it would ease Myers' apprehension. He was still frowning at it as he watched the quill go back to its scribbling.

"Okay, sure. But why couldn't you have just used some paper and a pen instead of a scroll and feather?"

Eve shrugged.

"A pen does not have as much personality, you could say. Not like a quill does anyways. And I rather like the smell of fresh ink, don't you?"

"Oh, so you're just an old-fashioned kind of witch." Myers smiled in realization.

Eve pouted, tugging at her sleeves self-consciously. She guessed he wasn't really talking about her appearance specifically, but she did not like to be referred to as 'old' in any context.

"So, anyway, how's the adjusting going?" Myers continued.

Eve's pout turned into a thoughtful frown as she considered how to reply.

While it was true she wished to have a better acquaintance with the team and perhaps some of the agents, she supposed everything else was satisfactory. She had spent her time fixing up her private quarters to be homier. It was now a colorful display of glamour magic, with rich wood furniture and soft-hued walls. She had transformed the sitting room into an office like space with many shelves and a wide desk. In the bedroom, she turned the sad mattress into a four-poster bed and created a living mural behind it displaying the view of her old room at Dr. Hale's house. While she feared having to explain how she was able to manage the changes and complicated glamour she performed despite being a mere 'apprentice', she felt it was necessary to have a bit of luxury. Bartholomew too was enjoying his new terrarium. Or, at least, he hadn't tried to escape from it yet.

More importantly, Eve had managed to charm the blasted door so it opened only on her verbal command rather than needing to type in that vexing key code every time. Overall her room was cozier and more welcoming, to be sure, but it was still lacking natural light and the plants she had in her care were beginning to show signs of withering. That the whole compound was underground was also taking its toll on Eve. She did not like to be trapped below ground…

"I suppose as well as can be expected." Eve finally admitted, "Though a bit cramped with all the plants."

"We do have a greenhouse if you like. Plenty of sunlight and room." Myers suggested nonchalantly.

Eve's face instantly brightened.

"Oh! That would be perfect! Would you show that to me next, please?" She asked, hoping it was not too imposing of her to request. She was sure Myers would, as he seemed to want to please her. Upon reflection though, she had to further ask, "Though, what is the Bureau's policy on flesh-eating flowers?"

Agent Myers visibly paled.

"On flesh-eating flowers? Uh, well, I guess we–"

"Damn it! Stay still!"

A shout echoed down the corridor ahead. The sound came from an open door, as thick as a vault, not far from Eve and Agent Myers. And Eve guessed, by how the voice boomed, that it belonged to the demon.

"You would not expect an enemy to wait for you to react." Said another voice, smoother and more mannered. Eve knew it instantly to be the Elven Prince, and she left Myers' side to push open the door a little farther. Myers came after her, but before he could explain to her that it wouldn't be the wisest idea, Eve entered the room.

"Are you calling me slow?" Growled the demon, panting a little and clutching the large sword. The Eleven Prince, standing tall and confident, arched a challenging brow.

"Very."

The two ran at each other, stopping a hairsbreadth apart to meet with swords instead. The room about them Eve quickly identified to be an exercise or training room. It was large, cavernous even, with a high ceiling and padded flooring. There were some weights in the corner, Eve gulping to notice one set reaching over five hundred pounds. She deduced this might be the demon's own personal training room, which would explain why the door was so thick. The walls were also fortified and padded, though riddled with dents from countless 'accidents'.

Eve quit her investigation of the room to watch the demon and elf circle one another. She was absolutely entranced in the subtle movements of the two, that she didn't notice when Myers standing next to her at the edge of the floor mats.

"Looks like they're at it again."

"They spare often?" Eve turned to him, curious. Myers shrugged, unimpressed with the fight happening before him.

"Yeah. Trust me, you don't want to hang around when these two are at it. They don't like to hold back. Probably best if we move along."

Eve did not want to though and turned back to witness the display of power. She wished to observe the demon she had heard so much of from Professor Broom.

In his letters, Professor Broom had reported Hellboy to be a kind, if a bit rough, creature. Eve personally could not see the kindness as of yet, as he seemed rather sarcastic and derisive, but of the 'rough' she could easily identify. His red skin was thick like armor, and his body was a pillar of muscle. The only thing about him that truly surprised Eve was that his horns were shaved down as if he was ashamed of them. He still had his tail however and was now flicking side to side in anger as he slashed and hacked at the prince with a strength Eve knew to be formidable. Truly, the demon was a credit to his kind.

Yet…as admirable as the demon was, Eve was left in awe when it came to the Elven Prince.

 _Prince Nuada Silverlance of the Bethmoora Clan…the Royal Blood of the Strange Folk…_

Never in her life did Eve ever think she would actually meet one of the elves of old. Even when she had been a young girl there were not many of them around and those that were had hidden themselves away like most of the Other Kind. While it was true she had learned some of their language, Daoine, it had been only for ritual purposes in her family. Eve had always hoped she would one day meet a real elf, as she herself was gifted with the Second Sight. Fairies and trolls, goblins and pookas were as familiar to her as mice and birds were to others. It had just been a part of her everyday life, and particularly helpful for her family when it came to getting supplies for spells and potions.

Even so…it was a wish fulfilled to see both Prince Nuada and Princess Nuala. They were both so _beautiful_. With skin as pale as snow and eyes like golden coins…no, beautiful was not enough of a word. Enchanting was closer, and yet still not sufficient. Even their hair was beguiling, starting as white and ending as sun-colored strands, offsetting the pale scar that signified their royal status. The moment she saw the mark that bridged their cheeks and nose, she knew who they were. They were everything she had ever heard of. And more.

They were creatures of splendor and magic, of the old ways and of the Other Kind.

As Eve watched the Prince, she could see why he was giving the demon a – _how was it phrased?_ –run for his money. The demon was a creature of brute force, but Nuada was one of speed and technique. He possessed his own strength, one of grace and agility. Eve was not knowledgeable of the ways of combat, but she could tell that Nuada was more skilled than Hellboy – almost laughably so. The demon held his own, but Nuada slashed at him from all sides and with such speed that Eve's eyes could not follow. He reeled and twisted, his taunt body a weapon in itself.

Eve felt the fight might have gone on forever, but with an act of finality, Nuada lunged at the demon. The point of his sword rested over the demon's heart, forcing him still.

"Match goes to me," Nuada announced, his voice emotionless even in victory. The demon swatted away the Prince's sword from him, scowling.

"Yeah, yeah," Hellboy growled, turning to see Eve and Myers standing at the edge of the floor mats. His irritation seemed to increase.

"Hey, look. Company."

"That was most impressive! You both are very skilled!" Eve applauded, smiling from ear to ear. She could not help her own excitement. The demon and Prince both were such impressive creatures that she felt giddy like she was seeing a fairy for the first time again.

"Uh-huh." The demon gave her an odd look, glancing from her to the scroll and quill that floated beside her before smirking, "Sorry. Don't do autographs."

Eve frowned, uncertain what he referred to, but supposed that maybe he was being 'weirding' out by the enchanted items like Agent Myers had been. Wanting to make a better impression upon the demon this time, Eve decided to accommodate him and snapped her fingers. The quill shook, and in a moment it, the scroll, and inkwell, flew back into the bag she had at her side.

The demon watched this curiously but then focused his glare onto Agent Myers.

"Myers. Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

The man shrugged, not fazed by the demon's hostility.

"Just taking Eve on a tour."

The demon's smirk grew larger.

"First name basis already, huh?"

Myers was about to reply with something terse, but Eve beat him to it.

"I grew up in a very formal environment, so I find I like being called by my first name even if we are not well acquainted. Please, I insist you do the same if you would like." Eve clarified with a smile. This was her chance to become acquainted with the demon, and she wanted to snatch it wholeheartedly.

At her friendly manner though, the demon arched a brow.

"Formal? I think you mean Amish. I've never heard anyone talk the way you do outside of Prince Charming here. And I was born in the forties."

The corner of Eve's lips twitched into a frown.

 _He is insulting me, I know it. I don't know how, but he is._

"Of course. I'll work on it." She said dejectedly, causing the demon to shrug his shoulders at the sudden change in her attitude.

At the mention of the Bethmoora Prince though, Eve glanced his way. He had retreated to a bench in the corner, cleaning his sword dutifully. He did not seem to be paying any attention to them, and Eve was relieved for it. It was intimidating enough conversing with the demon, let along royalty…

 _No, I'll make a good impression. I have to. Whether I like it or not, this is my new home. And I have to at least have more than just Myers as an acquaintance. I promised Dr. Hale I would make the best of this…_

"So, _Eve_ …" The demon annunciated heavily as he left the mats to fetch his shirt, "You're a witch."

"Yes?"

"Do something witchy. Let's see what you can do."

The request confused Eve, and she took a moment to interpret it. Was he requesting some show of magic? Did he not believe her a witch then? She recalled the lie that Krauss had told the others – that she was still witch in training, a useless apprentice. The demon clearly believed this lie and seemed to be challenging her to impress him.

The spark of competition lit itself in Eve before she could quell it. She snapped her fingers, and the quill leaped out of her bag and back to life. It danced around her excitedly, and Eve smiled at the demon for approval.

"That the best you got Rapunzel?" He scoffed, and Eve shrunk into herself. For such a trick she would have been put to death for it three hundred years ago...

 _It…it would not hurt. Not here, not him. He's used to these kinds of things. I can use my powers here if I take care not to…_

Eve shook her head, ordering the quill back into her bag. No, she couldn't do it. It was too risky.

"It's not tasteful to show off."

The demon barked a laugh. He turned his back to her, preparing to leave the room.

"Got it. You're just an apprentice. Bet you can't even make a broomstick dance."

Eve was not certain how, but the demon was insulting her again. It was starting to irritate her.

"I fail to see why that would be useful," She muttered.

The demon didn't even bother to look back at her. He was marching towards the door, purposefully slamming against Myers' shoulder, practically shoving him out of the way. Eve shifted uncomfortably, not liking the impression she had made so far. A useless apprentice. Was this how they all saw her? The truth could not be farther. If they but knew what she was capable of, of what she had done, then the demon would not be so quick to dismiss her…

Some remnant of her old pride rose up. Eve had wanted to make a good impression on the demon. She wanted to earn his respect, just as Professor Broom had earned hers. Obviously, it would take more than a floating quill to do that.

" _Exemplum_." She muttered, reaching a hand out towards Hellboy.

Before he could cross the threshold of the door, the demon stopped in surprise. A glimmering image of Eve stood in his way, staring up at him in a mischievously innocent fashion. The demon whipped his head around, wondering how the girl moved so quickly, before catching on.

Eve now stood among several copies of herself, each identical to her in every way. There were five in total, not including herself. A simple spell of glamour, but one that required an eye for detail. Eve dropped her bag onto the floor, stepping up onto the gym mats as her doppelgangers followed in their own fashion. The one by the door twirled her way past the demon, showing off its ability for independent movement.

Eve, knowing she had the demon's attention now – as well as a gasping Myers – swayed with her glamour copies, moving about them until she was indecipherable from the rest. Only a trained eye could tell the original from the others. As the demon stepped closer to watch, his eyes darting over each one of the Eves, it was clear he could not. Eve felt pride well up in her chest, the same it used to whenever she bested her sisters in a friendly duel. How she had missed this feeling, the old song of magic coursing through her freely.

Spinning with her doppelgangers, Eve's eyes landed on the Prince. She had nearly forgotten him. He was still seated on the bench, but his sword was now lying idly in his lap as he too watched her and her copies. She could not tell what he was thinking, but the scrutinizing look he gave her told Eve that he could tell flesh from glamour. But of course, he could. She would have been disappointed if he couldn't. The piercing feeling of his eyes on her forced Eve to look away from him, as it was too much attention for her to bear.

The demon had stepped closer now so he was on the mats again. Still looking at each copy of Eve, he ventured to reach out a hand to touch one. A fake, it flickered when the hand reached its shoulder, causing the image to shatter away in a shower of light. The demon pulled back his hand, glancing from it to the other Eves that now stopped to smile at him.

"Neat. Not amazing, but neat." He smirked.

Eve and her remaining copies laughed, the sound echoing in the large room. The demon was a hard one to win over, and Eve delighted in the challenge. She recalled her glamour images to herself, leaving her only remaining as she lifted her hands. The air of the room trembled, and slowly, Eve was lifted up. Suspended three feet high, her hair and dress billowed about her, as if she was floating in water. Again, a simple spell, one that didn't even need her to speak to have it done.

Now at eye level with the demon, Eve felt herself smirking. She willed other objects to follow her lead. A chair in a corner, a set of weights, and even the sword the demon had hefted onto his shoulder began to float up. Hellboy tried to keep a hold of sword, but it slipped past his grip. The surprised look he gave Eve made her chuckle, and she wondered if she might be able to lift him up too. It wouldn't be difficult. Why, with her power, it would be as easy as…

 _Oh, no._

A shiver went through Eve. Some cold, terrible thing inside her shifted, bringing itself to the surface of her power. She had gone too far. It was taking over. Her skin felt too tight, barely able to contain the power that had been denied freedom these past few decades. If she didn't stop now, then it would take over. Panic flooded her, threatening her last thread of control. If that went, then she wouldn't be able to stop it, and then she would be lost to it again, and then she would hurt and take and destroy and –

Everything crashed back to the floor. Eve barely managed to land on her feet, stumbling a little. The sword – which had floated behind the demon – stabbed itself down into the concrete floor not two feet from Myers. The startled man jumped back, unhurt, but Eve felt sick with guilt.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Oh, God! I'm so sorry!" She cried, running over to Myers only to stop herself from reaching out to him. It wasn't a good idea for her to touch anyone, especially a mortal, right now. Eve cursed herself.

 _Dolt! Useless pox! I'm supposed to try to get these people to like me, not get them split in twain!_

She should have known. At home with Dr. Hale, she could have handled twice this amount of magic without losing control. But being in a new environment, surrounded by strangers, the walls she had built with Dr. Hale to contain the overwhelming power within her must have crumbled a little. She had felt it when Dr. Hale died, a crack etching its way in, but Eve had no idea it was this bad. If she didn't reinforce the enchantment, if she didn't find a warlock or witch powerful enough to help her contain it, then–!

"Uh…whoa." Uttered Agent Myers in front of her, breaking Eve's panic. He was smiling from ear to ear.

"That was cool! So you can fly?"

"No. Actual flight isn't possible unless I bathe in the boiled fat of an unbaptized child. That was a levitation spell," Eve answered, confused by his question and reaction.

"Ah." He grimaced, "Never mind."

"Levitation. It's a nice party trick." Spoke the demon from behind her. He sounded bored now. None of them knew how close she came to losing control. All they saw was her – _what was that phrase?_ – drop the ball when it came to her spell. They didn't know. They didn't know and no one was hurt. It was alright.

 _For now._

"That's…all I can really do. Potions are really more my area of expertise." Eve lied timidly, glancing towards Prince Nuada to gauge his reaction to all of this. He was still on the bench and was back to polishing his sword as if she and the others were not even here. Eve felt a wave of relief bring her back to normal.

"Icky stuff. I once saw a witch's brew turn someone inside out. Wasn't pretty." Commented the demon as he walked back over towards her and Myers.

Eve frowned.

"I do not practice to harm others."

 _Not intentionally._

"So, like, you don't do black magic?" Asked Myers as he stepped aside for Hellboy. The demon gripped the handle of his large sword, and with a tug, freed it from the concrete. There remained a crack in the floor, and Eve felt her guilt increase at the sight of it.

"There is no such thing." She started to explain, "Black magic or white magic, as you call them, does not exist. Magic itself is not inherently evil or good, but the thoughts and will behind its' use can be. If the person is good, then the spell is good. However, one should not meddle with spells of ancient or great power." Here, Eve unconsciously tugged down the sleeves at her wrists. "Unlimited power can feed into the darker side of oneself."

"Geez Rapunzel, you sound like a fortune cookie." Snorted Hellboy. She tilted her head curiously up at him.

"Is that a good thing?"

The demon looked at her for a second before shrugging and smirking, "Sure, why not."

Eve did not know what this meant, but some hope fluttered in her that she finally managed to make a good impression on the demon. She smiled up at him and tried to think of something else to say to keep the conversation going. The letters that Professor Broom had written came to mind. She had kept them all, tying them into a neat stack with a purple ribbon, and had wanted to share them with the demon when they finally got a chance to know one another better. Perhaps now would be a good time to mention them.

Eve opened her mouth to speak, but another beat her to it.

"Hey, lover."

All three turned to see Liz Sherman, dressed in black from head to toe apart from a red choker necklace, waltz up to them. Myers and Hellboy smiled while Eve fought the urge to step back.

"Babe." Smiled the demon. Liz came up next to Hellboy, smirking when he slid an arm around her small waist. Turning to notice Eve, the pyrokinetic woman smiled.

"Eve, right? How's the Bureau treating you?"

"It treats me well," Eve said pleasantly, mimicking the woman's smile as best she could. She feared the nervous tremble in her hands ruined the effect, something Liz definitely noticed.

"…okay. So, hey," She looked up to Hellboy, "I ordered us a couple dozen pizzas and the twins are with Abe and Nuala. Figured we could use some alone time."

The smirk the demon wore was the biggest Eve had seen him display yet.

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"I could stand to hear it more." Chuckled Liz.

The woman turned to chat with Myers for a moment, saying something about coffee. Myers had told Eve that he and Liz were friends, but by the jealous expression that came over the demon, Eve wondered if there had been more between them. But it was none of her business. She turned from them to glance once more towards Prince Nuada. He was standing now, packing his training supplies into a bag before slinging it over his shoulder. When he turned and began to leave the room, the demon shouted at him.

"See ya, Prince Charming. Beat you next time."

"One can always hope." Replied the elven prince without a hint of emotion, causing the demon to growl. Eve continued to watch him, barely catching the gold shift in his eyes as he looked her way a brief moment before leaving the gym. Eve tried to ignore the wave of unease the glance caused in her.

"Let it go, sweetie. Let it go." Liz soothingly told the demon as the air about him turned hot. The affronted Hellboy and his mate took their leave as well, Liz throwing back a friendly wave goodbye at Eve and Myers which only the latter returned. Eve's mind was still on the elf. She waited to speak until she was certain the Prince was out of hearing range – elves had frightfully excellent ears.

"Prince Nuada seems…" Eve started but could not find the proper word. Myers offered his help.

"Broody? Gloomy? Murderous? Take your pick."

"I do not understand." Eve frowned.

Myers pursed his lips, considering his next words carefully. He knew that the Director didn't want Eve privy the work of the BPRD. He said it was none of her business to know what went on here. Still, she had to know this at least, if just for her own personal safety.

"He's not here, um, _willingly_. Hellboy defeated the Prince when he plotted to kill all of humanity with something called the Golden Army."

"The Golden Army?!" Gasped Eve, unable to keep out the horror in her voice.

Had the Prince really attempted such a thing? He had been exiled for it once, all those hundreds of years ago as the stories went. But such an act now could only mean an intention to eradicate all humans!

Eve could not help but be shaken by this news. As a royal member of Bethmoora Clan, she did not want to think ill of Prince Nuada, but if this was true than it did not paint him in a flattering light. She had heard stories, rumors floating around the troll market near Dr. Hale's home, about the death of King Balor. She had mourned for him then out of respect, but now, she mourned for the thought that Prince Nuada must have betrayed his own father and kin to unleash the Golden Army. Only a being filled with the darkest of rages could ever want to wield such a weapon. But surely, there had to have been some mistake? Prince Nuada could not be the kind of monster that would wish for such bloodshed…could he?

"So, he a prisoner here?" She asked, unable to stop the conflicting war of her emotions from furrowing her brow.

"Sort of. He surrendered to Hellboy and now they work together. He can only leave the compound for certain missions, and even then, he's kept on a tight leash." Myers explained. But noticing the worried look on Eve's face, Myers wrongly guessed she feared for her own safety.

"You don't need to worry about him. He's…safe. I think." He tried to comfort. Eve, touched by his worry over her, put aside her conflict to smile at him. His attempt successful, Myers nodded towards the door.

"Come on. More to see."

* * *

The library was thick with silence. Nuada preferred it that way, on the rare occasions that he visited it.

It was not that he objected to the library itself, as it was one of the places in this confounded compound he could find some enjoyment. It was not comparable to the royal library he had grown up with, but it was a sizable room and collection that offered some books and tomes that even he had not read yet. Many of them were human works of course, but some could hold his interest. Grimoires, Occult Epics, and even some human myths offered rare moments of escape for Nuada. However, the library happened to be a popular place for Abe and Nuala to meet, as the amphibian man's tank made up one entire side of the room. And if they were not here, it was always likely an agent was, tasked with some research for whatever latest mission or problem the Bureau was facing. But today the room was empty, and rather than select his reading material and retreat to his room or his other secret place, Nuada decided to stay.

However, as he sat in a chair behind a corner of shelves, he found he could not relax. It had been a few hours since his sparring session with the demon, but Nuada felt coiled with tension. Not even a shower and his usual cup of dandelion tea could alleviate his agitation. He was unsettled, a feeling that had been plaguing him more of late. While it would be natural to attribute it to his state of imprisonment, this day he knew the cause to be something else. Or rather, someone else.

It had been a surprise to see the witch in the training room. It was a surprise when anyone stopped by when Nuada and the demon dueled. Anyone with a sense of self-preservation typically avoided being in the room when the two were sparring. The demon, at times, could get rather carried away. But to see her standing there, eyes shining as if she was witnessing some kind of miracle, was even stranger. She looked absolutely enthralled with their skills and seemed to want to impress the demon in turn. Yet her little show of magic, the skills she demonstrated...that went beyond strange. From the first, Nuada did not trust her. It was his nature to be cautious, and it served him well his many centuries of life. But now he realized his instincts may be more right than even he first supposed...

As if summoned by his thoughts, Nuada sensed the approach of the witch. Her magic stood out easily here. It thrummed like a hummingbird's heart in an otherwise deadened place. It came as no surprise to him with the library doors opened and in stepped the witch with Myers.

"This, as you know, is the library!" Announced Myers, the witch following him into the middle of the room. The witch nodded, her eyes scanning the shelves before her appreciatively. The inkwell, scroll, and quill floating by her head danced excitedly, sketching everything they saw.

"And thus, the Myers' tour of the BPRD has concluded," The agent then gave a mock bow, "I do hope you have enjoyed your time and for holding all your questions until the end."

The witch turned towards him with a frown.

"But…I have been asking questions the entire time. Was I not supposed to? I'm sorry if I was being rude."

At her sudden upset, Myers immediately tried to placate her.

"I was trying to make a joke. Sort of."

The witch's frown deepened, then softened, and then she finally gave an awkward chuckle.

"Oh, of course. A joke."

Nuada, from his corner, attempted to ignore their conversation but began to consider taking his leave. It was clear that the two of them had not noticed him yet, and he did not feel like announcing himself in the hopes they would soon depart. That being said, he did not want to be subjected to the obvious attempts of Myers trying to charm the witch. He clearly was interested in her given the way he acted around her, but the witch was either oblivious or uninterested. It was hard to tell, as she was quiet and timid around most everyone. Given the way she spoke and acted, it was easy for even Nuada to tell that she had not spent much time around her fellow humans. Even Hellboy found her strange. Yet it seemed that the witch took a liking to the demon if her previous actions to impress him were any indication. Even as a witch, it was odd that any human should want for the company of a demon...

"Who owns all these books? It is a most impressive collection." The witch asked as she idly paced closer to Nuada's corner, looking over the books in great interest.

"Well, some were items that had been confiscated. Powerful voodoo, you know? But most of it is, uh, _was_ the personal collection of Professor Broom."

At the mention of the Professor, the witch slowed her steps. A curious expression furrowed her brows, and she reached out to touch the spines of the books next to her as if they could offer comfort.

"I see." She muttered, her voice heavy with emotion. Sensing something wrong, Myers frowned.

"So…you knew him? Professor Broom?"

The witch took a moment to answer. When she did, her words were hesitant, as if she felt she was sharing too much too soon, "Yes. He and Dr. Hale helped me with my adjustment after I left Salem behind. He visited us every few years and wrote us many letters, helping Dr. Hale with her research. He was very dear to her. And to me."

"I'm sorry," Myers said softly, "I knew him too. He brought me here to the Bureau. He was a good man."

"Yes. He was." Agreed the witch, attempting to smile.

Nuada, despite his resolve to ignore the pair of them, could not help but ponder this. It had been indicated that there had been a strong friendship between Dr. Hale and Professor Broom, but it seemed the witch knew him personally as well. If that was the case, it explained much. If Professor Broom had been a friend, it was only natural that the witch would seek the company of the demon who had been the man's adopted son, lonely as she must be after losing two companions. And perhaps that was why the Professor felt it necessary to sign a Pact of Blood to ensure the young woman's protection. And yet...

"So, uh, I got to get back to work actually," Myers spoke, attempting to alleviate the mood, "Believe it or not, there are a lot of papers needing to be filed with my name on them. Do you want me to walk you back to your room?"

The witch, to both Myers and Nuada's disappointment, shook her head.

"If it all the same, I would rather stay here for a while. With my map, I can find my way back. Again, thank you so much for showing me the compound."

Seeing little chance of persuading her to change her mind, Myers smiled and nodded.

"Any time."

He left after making a promise to check up on her tomorrow, but the witch only half-heard him as she retreated back to the shelves. The library fell into a heavy silence once more, but Nuada's concentration was no longer on his book. He more listened to the shuffle of the witch's steps than watched her, but he was still very aware of her presence that changed the air of the library as her magic spread itself out as if needing room to stretch. The witch slowly began to pace the length of the shelves, stopping once in a while to climb a ladder to inspect the higher shelves. Her mood seemed to have improved, as the quill, scroll, and inkwell again moved around her excitedly. She began to touch the spines of books, causing them to dance along after her as she continued to browse the collection. She didn't seem to be looking for anything in particular, but her eyes would light up when she came across certain titles.

"The Dragon Codex…A Guide to Witches and Warlocks…Grimm's Fairytales…" She hummed to herself in interest. That last book she actually grabbed herself, flipping through the pages until she found something that made her frown.

"Hansel and Gretel. I remember this story. What horrible children."

She had it float along with the others anyway, her selection growing quite large until there were some odd twenty books suspended in the air. This display of magic was not as showy as what she had performed in the gym, and yet still it unsettled Nuada to see it. The demon may have been unimpressed with the witch's skills, but he did not have the experience for which to make a proper judgment. In comparison to the ones he had faced or sought help from were capable of, of course a levitation spell would seem rudimentary to Hellboy. But if he had spent as much time in Troll markets as Nuada had, he would not be so quick to dismiss her. Nuada had seen witches of all levels of competence, from actual apprentices to masters of their craft. And from what he had seen, this witch was no mere apprentice...

Finally, the witch made it over to Nuada's corner. Still scanning the shelves, it took her another moment to notice him. And when she had, she yelped as if she had been struck by hellfire. Her concentration broken, Nuada half-expected her spell to sever and all the books to drop. At least, that was what one might expect if this witch was an actual apprentice. Instead what happened was far more unusual.

Nuada barely had time to duck and roll when the flurry of books came his way. They came down like a flock of crows hungry for flesh, smashing themselves against the space Nuada's head had been. It was easy enough to avoid them all, but that did not leave Nuada any less surprised when he stood himself up and inspected the damage they had caused to the shelf that was behind the chair, nearly breaking it.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Are you alright?!" The witch panicked, reaching a hand out to him only to then pull it back as if afraid. She seemed torn between wanting to retreat from him or help him. Her distress was obvious, and she continued to apologize and fret over him without pause for breath until Nuada finally spoke.

"I am fine."

Hearing that, the witch practically collapsed against a nearby shelf in relief. In some effort to calm herself, she worriedly ran her long braid of hair in her hands. Nuada noticed her hands were shaking, and he wondered if it really was his being here that startled her so much or her reaction. It took her a moment to glance back towards him, and even then she did not meet his eyes.

"I didn't think anyone was in here. Sorry. I...I just...sorry."

Nuada nodded, accepting her apology before she could start rambling again. Still shaken, she went over to the chair he had been seated in and kneeled before it, cleaning up the mess she had made. The books picked themselves up, almost apologetic in their movements as they passed Nuada and back to their places on the shelves. As for the witch, she took out a handkerchief from her bag and attempted to rub away the ink from her inkwell that had spilled onto the rug. When it refused to be rubbed away, she risked a quick spell and it disappeared. Packing up what remained into her satchel, she stood up.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, your highness. I'll…I'll leave. Sorry." She muttered, briefly meeting his eyes. As if frightened to come near him, she gave Nuada a wide berth as she passed by. Before she could make her escape however, Nuada felt the need to speak.

"For an apprentice, you show more discipline than one might expect."

The witch came to a sudden stop, causing the long train of her braided white hair to sway as she turned back to look at him.

"Pardon?"

"Duplicates and levitation are not the spells an apprentice usually attempts, let alone have mastered." He commented, carefully watching her reaction. The witch could react in any number of ways. She could attempt to lie to him, explain herself, or deny everything. She chose the third option with a sheepish smile.

"Well, clearly I have not mastered anything."

Nuada only arched a brow, and the witch seemed to understand that he did not believe her. Immediately she looked away from him as if she was afraid he could read her thoughts. Still, she attempted a curtsey to him.

 _"By your leave, your highness."_ She told him, speaking in his native language of Daoine. The audacity of it made him scowl, but she happened to miss it as she practically ran out of the room then, retreating as quickly as she could without seeming impolite.

Nuada, after a few moments, sat down once more in the chair in the corner. The witch had accidentally put away the book he had been in the process of reading, but he had no desire to retrieve it from its spot. His thoughts remained on the witch, or rather, what should be done about her.

There was something greatly disturbing about her. Her odd mannerisms and white hair aside, the witch was clearly hiding many things. The Pact of Blood, her all too innocent air, pretending to be an apprentice...he wondered if she would present a future danger to them. She was far more adept at spells than she let on, but her lack of control came not from beginner's inexperience, but rather an abundance of power. Too much power, especially for one so young as she. A power that was fueled heavily by her emotions and was unsteady at best. If she became frightened or angry enough, she could very well hurt or even kill people...

After a few moments of consideration, Nuada dismissed the idea of sharing his suspicions with the others. It was not his business. Director Manning had made the choice to bring her here, and should she bring trouble it would all be on his head. Besides, she was merely to live here. Krauss had informed them all that the witch would at best offer her expertise and was never to go out on the field with the team. What secrets she kept would have no real effect on Nuada and his time here. Should it come to it however, Nuada was certain the witch would not be an obstacle. For now, he would keep a watchful eye on her, and keep his dislike of her to himself unless she forced his hand.


	5. Little Fires

**Chapter 5; Little Fires:**

The morning found Nuada restless and already awake. Though his chambers did not have any windows, he could tell the sun had only just now started to rise. He had spent many centuries living underground, following Mr. Wink from country to country as they both etched out a living with their crafts, but no matter how long he remained below Nuada could always tell the sun's position. It brought him some comfort to know the heavens moved as they always had through all the changes the earth suffered at the hands of humans.

Still, it was too early to break his fast, as the canteen did not open until seven. Nuada had several hours to waste then.

Dressing himself in trousers, a long grey tunic, and a red sash belt, Nuada stepped out into the hall. The soft soles of his boots barely made a sound as he walked. Silence and stillness came easily to elves, able to pass unnoticed by most mortal eyes and ears. But for Nuada it was an essential skill. As a warrior, as an outcast prince, it was always better to remain unseen and unheard, until he wished it. But today his steps felt heavy, sluggish. He would have blamed it on his poor night's sleep, but Nuada knew better.

Something was…off. It shifted his concentration, making things harder to focus on, harder to achieve. Yesterday, while training, he was going through a sequence with his spear he had performed a thousand times and a thousand times again. And yet, by the end of it, when it came to the final lunge, his grip loosened and he ended up dropping his weapon. It clattered to the ground loudly, and for several moments Nuada could only stare at it, his breath heavy with exhaustion. He knew he had been lacking focus of late, but this…

He had not been like this since he went into self-imposed exile, all those centuries ago. The anger, the frustration, it sank deeply into him. But at least back then, Nuada still had a purpose. He still felt a need to protect his people, to do what his father could not, to do what was necessary to save the Other Kind. He was able to overcome his despair with his goal in mind and the loyal Mr. Wink at his side. Now that he knew such efforts to be hopeless and his dear friend was gone, these feelings dug themselves in further. Hollowing him out from the inside.

Nuada quickly arrived at his destination; the greenhouse. It was on the ground floor of the BPRD, which only within the past few months had he been granted access to roam for his 'good behavior' so far. Director Manning made it clear that should Nuada abuse this privilege, he had no qualms about taking away Nuala's status as a guest here. As it would prevent her from seeing Abe whenever she wished, it would in turn ruin what little a relationship Nuada still had with his sister. It was as sure a threat as if the man had a knife to Nuada's back.

Entering the greenhouse, Nuada was greeted with the sweetness of fresh air. The compound was stagnant with the smell of humans, but here the plants purified the air, perfuming the space. Most of the plants were of strange or magical quality, some so deadly that to brush against them was enough to invite their poison into one's veins. As Nuada made his way to the center, leaves and petals trembled excitedly in his wake. They were beginning to wonder where their Prince had been, as there had been much excitement here these past few days. Nuada only passively wondered what could have the plants so riled, when he finally made his way to his typical haunt.

It was a wooden chair that had been left here and forgotten, left next to a work table pressed against the western facing wall. The table had all sorts of odds and ends, from spades to terracotta pots, to packets of seeds from the most curious specimens. Nuada reached above the table to a shelf too tall for most humans to reach without the aid of a step. There he took hold of the book he had left here, and sitting himself down, he tried to enjoy it.

The iron supports of the greenhouse cast shadows down, like a spider's web, as the sun slowly continued to rise. The vegetation continued to stir, whispering for Nuada's attention. He was not their caretaker – that would be whatever unlucky new hire got stuck here – but they ever so enjoyed the Bethmoora Prince's company. His presence brought out the virgin wildness in their roots, as it always was with elves. But this day they had something they wanted to tell him, and so tried harder to capture his attention.

Eventually, Nuada closed his book. It held no interest for him anyway, as the words could not reach through the fog of his mind. Seeing their chance, the plants shivered as they drew his attention to the source of their excitement. Curious, Nuada left his seat and walked over to the corner opposite him.

There, carefully arranged, were new specimens he had not seen before. There had to be at least twenty, with some sitting patiently in pots and others whose roots were tied up in burlap and itching to break free. Nuada considered each with a careful eye and was surprised at the variety, ranging from common to near extinct. Ribwort…Troll's Tongue…Bindweed…even Moon Goddess Lilly.

Cautiously, Nuada extended a hand towards the lily to wake it up. It did not react when he traced the outer edge of its leaves, as it already quivered with life. Someone greatly cared for these plants, cultivating and encouraging their savage magic that normally lay dormant. As he retreated back to his seat beside the work table, he considered who brought these newcomers. It certainly was not any human, or at least, not the ones that worked here at the BPRD. Their fingers were coated with gunpowder and soot, not at all adept at caring for anything young and green and magical. Perhaps Nuala then?

The residents of the greenhouse trembled about Nuada, and he picked up their humor at his ignorance. He waited for them to have their fun, knowing they would tell him when they wanted to. The answer came sooner than he expected.

 _"Witch…"_

* * *

Several hours later, Nuada finally made his way down to the canteen. Normally he made it earlier than this to avoid the usual crowd, but he had lost track of time in the greenhouse. If not for feeling his sister's presence within, Nuada would have avoided it altogether until it was empty once more. He felt the need to be closer to his sister however, as her company had a calming effect on him at times. He hoped this would be one of them.

Loading a tray with his typical morning fare, he approached her.

"Nuada, good morrow." His twin greeted, her smile lifting her eyes. She seemed glad to see him, probably worried about the anguish she sensed within his mind. He would put her at ease however, if just avoid confronting those feelings himself a little longer.

"If it would please you, we would be glad of your company as we break our fast." Nuala invited, gesturing to the seat beside her. At the table with her were Agent Myers, the demon, and Miss Sherman. The three of them were finishing paperwork for their most recent mission together over a couple of cups of coffee. Well, really it was Miss Sherman and Agent Myers who did the paperwork. The demon merely sat by and would make unhelpful comments once in a while.

"I believe I will," Nuada accepted, much to the surprise of everyone. Typically, he avoided spending more time than necessary with any of them, but for the sake of his sister's company he would put up with them. The demon, however, was not happy over this change of habit.

"Prince Charming gracing us with his presence. Aren't we lucky?" He muttered, earning his mate's annoyance as she elbowed his side. She gave Nuada an apologetic look.

"Don't mind him. He's just in a grouchy mood because Abe is on a mission and he wasn't invited."

"I can hold my breath underwater just as long as he can." The demon protested.

"Sure thing, tough guy."

Nuada was certain the woman's attempt to contain her mate's temper was more for Nuala's sake than his. The human woman had a reasonable dislike of Nuada. He had tried to kill her mate after all. But of late she seemed to be putting forth an effort to be more welcoming towards him. He correctly guessed that this must be Nuala's influence. His twin had a way of winning people over that he did not, able to make requests of others that they themselves would not even consider if anyone else but her asked. She was always welcomed where she went, able to win the admiration of the coldest hearts, as their mother once had. It was never something Nuada felt jealousy over, but since childhood, he had always been aware of the stark difference in how they were received by others.

Regardless, Nuada did have to wonder at his sister's current presence. If her amphibian man was not here, then why was she? Perhaps she was truly concerned for Nuada and came to visit him specifically. Or more likely there was some news from the Council and she wished to consult with him. Even if he was a banished traitor, she valued his opinion on some matters. Either way, Nuada had a feeling that his sister had something to tell him when she found the chance to be alone with him…

For the moment though, Nuada supped on the fruit, cheeses, and bread he had selected. He was not strictly against meat but preferred to hunt his own when he did partake. As it was, what he ate lacked any true flavor. Certainly, the humans thought it sufficient, but Nuada longed for the spices and delicacies he was used to purchasing at the Troll markets. Thinking of the place he had once called home for so many years brought another wave of misery through Nuada, but he disregarded it.

"Hey, Prince. You and me hitting the gym today?" Hellboy asked after becoming bored with teasing his mate.

"I would rather not."

Again, this was a surprise to everyone at the table. Nuada never shied from any opportunity to train. But with his recent lack of focus and yesterday's incident, Nuada did not think it wise to partake this time. If he made any mistake in front of the demon, the hell beast would never let him live it down…

"Are you feeling unwell?" Nuala asked, and Nuada could sense a worry in her mind over him. He buried the troubling emotions further down, trying to escape her reach, wishing not for the first time that he and his twin were so connected.

"It is nothing that will not pass." He told her, though she knew it to be a lie. She accepted it nonetheless, but the demon would not let the topic go.

"What will pass? A cold? Do elves get colds?"

"Why not? You get fevers." Miss Sherman countered, causing the demon to smirk.

"Only when you're near, babe."

"Oh, Lord." Agent Myers muttered, just as uncomfortable with their flirting as everyone else at the table. The demon and his mate didn't seem to mind, but the moment ended abruptly when Hellboy spotted a lone figure on the other side of the canteen.

"Hey. It's short and strange."

Glancing over, Nuada saw it was the witch. It had been two weeks since their run-in at the library, and Nuada had not given her much thought until this morning. She looked different, her hair being unbound, and it nearly trailed behind her on the floor as she walked to the serving counters with a tray. She was wearing a green button-down dress and wool cardigan, tugging the sleeves of the latter every few seconds to cover her wrists. She seemed nervous, barely able to stutter what she wanted to the cook. At any little noise near her, she flinched, but thankfully there was no outburst of her powers. It would seem she did not like crowds any more than Nuada, possibly less so.

"Be nice. She's just a kid." Miss Sherman berated her mate. The demon shrugged.

"I am nice. I just don't like the way she looks at you."

"I'm sure it's nothing," She dismissed before standing up to wave at the witch.

"Hey, Eve!"

At hearing her name called out, the witch froze. Looking over and noticing them, she made no sign to move for a few moments. After some debate with herself to stay or come over, the witch ended up giving in and made her way over to their table.

"Merry meet!" She greeted them all, her cheer and smile a little forced.

"First time seeing you here."

"Yes, well, normally I prefer to make my own breakfast, but there has been…a complication." The witch explained, turning towards Myers, "Thank you again for getting my groceries. I truly appreciate you procuring them for me."

"Any time. Sorry if I missed something on your list, your fancy handwriting was a bit hard to decipher." The agent replied, grinning widely.

The demon and his mate shared a glance, picking up on the not-so-subtle fondness their mutual friend had for the witch. She had him – _what was that human phrase?_ – wrapped around her little finger.

"No, no. You did wonderfully. It's the stove that's the problem." The witch sighed in disappointment, "I just don't know how to command it. Dr. Hale's stove never showed an ounce of attitude, such a sweet little thing."

"Oh, uh, maybe try the microwave?" Myers suggested, but that only further upset the witch.

"The microwave is even worse. I hexed it and now it won't stop barking at me."

"Yeah. Hate it when that happens." Hellboy commented, just as confused as the others. There was a brief lull in the conversation as the witch continued to stand where she was, idly holding her tray and uncertain of what should happen next. It seemed she was once again debating on staying or leaving when Nuala spoke up.

"Please, sit with us, Miss Winters."

The witch gushed at the personal invitation, unable to properly mutter her thanks. There were two chairs left available, one beside Miss Sherman, and the other next to Nuada. To most everyone's surprise, the witch chose the one next to him. Again, the demon shared a look with his mate, his suspicion about the witch confirmed in his mind.

"If it pleases you, your highness, you may call me Eve." The witch finally managed to say. Nuala smiled gently at the young woman, an expression Nuada had seen her use only on the most skittish of animals.

"Only if you will call me Nuala."

The table was now a bustle of conversation. Myers was rushing to finish the paperwork with Miss Sherman and Hellboy, eager to enjoy this rare opportunity to dine with the witch. But the demon was not cooperating, choosing to answer each question with sarcasm, which only served to frustrate the agent. Nuala continued to exchange pleasantries with the witch, asking her the usual questions that came with small talk. The witch hardly minded as she slowly started to relax.

Nuada began to consider leaving, very much aware of how the others overlooked his presence as they talked. Even the witch, despite being so close to him, seemed to glance everywhere but towards him. He knew he, like so many it seemed, made her nervous. That begged the question of why she would choose to be at his side then. He decided he would finish his meal and be on his way, lest he troubled his sister by abruptly leaving. As he ate though, he could not help but notice what the witch dined on. She only had a bowl of milk, a few slices of bread, and berries. The bread she tore into chunks and placed in the bowl, letting them soak up the milk before scattering the berries on top. It was not something a typical human enjoyed for their first daily meal. Not for several centuries, at any rate.

"So, Eve. Do you have siblings?" Asked Myers, finally finished with his paperwork.

Before the witch had time to answer, the demon snorted.

"She's the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter Myers."

"Oh, right." The agent chuckled in embarrassment, but the witch didn't seem to mind his forgetfulness.

"Yes, I am the youngest in my family."

"That must be tough."

"No," The witch disagreed with a smile, "It was wonderful. Even after my sisters married, they remained nearby our family home. I would often visit each of them, helping them with chores or looking after my little nieces and nephews. Then for Yule and Samhain, they would come over and all of us would celebrate and dance till dawn."

"Sky-clad I bet," Hellboy muttered with a smirk. This earned him, yet again, another elbow to his gut from his mate. Myers didn't pick up on the cue, and could not help his curiosity.

"Sky-clad? What's that?"

"I'll tell you when you are older kid." The demon teased, serving to only confuse the human more. As for the witch, her cheeks were nearly as red as the demon's. Nuada wondered if her embarrassment would cause some outburst of her magic, but no, she merely looked like she wished for the floor to swallow her alive.

"It all sounds like a lot of fun." Miss Sherman spoke, attempting to move on from her mate's mischief at the witch's expense. Eagerly the witch took up the offer.

"It was. Sometimes my sisters would bring their daughters with when they became old enough. There were so many of us that all together we were nearly made up half of the village. Poor father always felt so outnumbered."

"Village?" The demon frowned.

"Well, I grew up in a very small town." The witch corrected herself, but Hellboy only shook his head.

"Last I heard Salem was pretty big. Tourism and all that."

"Oh," The witch exclaimed, as if she had forgotten, only to explain too quickly, "We lived just outside of it. Father owned a farm. We mostly grew corn."

Nuada, having been listening to the conversation, silently tallied his growing suspicion. The witch was a terrible liar, and not much of what she said made sense when pressed, but no one but the demon and himself seemed to have yet noticed it. She had said before that her family no longer carried on the tradition of magic, but if they were celebrating the sacred holidays, they surely must be in some form or fashion. And if that was true, why then did she go to Dr. Hale to learn magic when her sisters could have finished her education? From the sound of it, her family was her coven, and to leave them behind when they all seemed so close was not natural.

However, Hellboy quickly lost interest in perusing the point and shrugged.

"Sounds cozy."

"Do you see them often? Your family?" Myers hurried asked, wanting to monopolize the witch's time all for himself.

"On holidays, yes. That was when I lived with Dr. Hale though. I do not know if it might be possible to arrange a visit with them now."

"Sure it is. We have tons of cars and snacks. Could make a road trip out of it." He offered, but the witch only shook her head. Her reply came slowly as if it pained her to speak it.

"It is best if I perhaps took leave of absence from them."

"Troubled family, huh? I get that." Uttered the demon as he took out a cigar from his jacket pocket. He started padding himself down, looking for a lighter and frowning when he couldn't.

"To say the least." Agreed the witch. Before Myers could ask yet another question, Nuala beat him to it.

"How did you meet Dr. Hale?"

"Oh, well…in a way she found me. She saw me preforming magic and knew who I was right away. She took me in, and–"

The witch's voice died very suddenly as something caught her eye. Across the table, Miss Sherman had ignited her hand with her fire so as to light her mate's cigar. Nuada felt more than saw the witch's reaction as the air quivered with magic, causing the glassware on the table to shake. Taking a guess as to what was going to happen, Nuada barely had time to reach and cover his sister's face as the glasses shattered. Pieces shot everywhere, forcing everyone's heads down. The situation was made worse as the witch stood herself up afterward, bumping the table with her knee as she backed away as quickly as she could.

"Hey!" Miss Sherman shouted when one of the broken mugs started to spill coffee onto her lap. Thankfully this was the worst of the damage, as everyone had covered their faces in time. But the demon, accurately guessing who was responsible, growled at the witch angrily.

"Watch it Rapunzel!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Oh, God!" The witch further panicked, "I…I just…"

"Are you okay?" Myers asked as he approached the obviously frightened woman. She quickly stepped away from him, bringing her hands to her chest.

"No! Don't touch me!"

That gave the agent pause, and the witch only then realized she had shouted at him. Worse, she had the attention of the entire canteen on her. As if their eyes hurt her, she further flinched away from them. While the agents here were used to a lot of strange things, they weren't used to those strange things happening over their breakfast. Knowing she had overstayed her welcome, the witch turned from them all.

"I'm sorry. I'll leave. I'm sorry." She muttered one last time before making her escape. No one got in her way or tried to stop her with questions as she left. In her absence, hushed whispers rose up. Everyone in the canteen was curious about what just happened, but Hellboy thought he found the answer.

"See. I told you. She has some kind of grudge against you." He told his mate. Miss Sherman shook her head.

"I don't think it's that. I think she afraid of fire."

The demon frowned in thought for a moment, but then realization dawned on him and he muttered a small 'oh'. It was not the same for Myers.

"Why would she be afraid of fire?"

"Gee. I wonder if it has something to do with Salem, smart guy." Hellboy replied mockingly.

"But…they haven't burned witches for hundreds of years." The human's voice was uncertain and questioning. To Nuada's own surprise, he decided to answer.

"Fear and hate do not disappear as quickly as that."

* * *

"Are you certain you are alright?" Nuada asked his sister yet again. They were walking the halls of the BPRD together, having left the canteen not long after the witch's outburst. Though their connection would have alerted Nuada if Nuala had been physically hurt by the witch, Nuada could not help but be concerned.

"Of course, brother." Nuala smiled, soothing her brother's worries, "I worry for Eve though. She seemed so terribly frightened."

Nuada nodded in agreement, though he did not share the same sympathies of his sister towards the witch. The suspicions he held towards her came now to his mind. He had debated before whether or not to share these concerns with anyone, but given this recent incident, he began to change his mind. At least in regards to his sister, as she seemed to be not far off in drawing the same conclusions as he.

"Strange, her powers seemed to be tied to her emotions. That is not normally how magic works for witches." Nuala spoke, and Nuada nodded in agreement again.

"I am beginning to wonder if she even is one, everything else about her seems to be an all too flimsy lie."

"What do you mean?"

Nuada explained to her. He shared his suspicions, what he had witnessed in the training room, the library. Nuala knew as well as he that the abilities the witch had so far demonstrated were not the skills a mere apprentice should be capable of. Nuala seemed to know as he did that the witch was a fountain of uncontrolled power, and what danger that could bring. Nuada kept what he had learned in the greenhouse to himself though, the notion of disclosing such details uncomfortable to him for some reason. It was not necessary in any case, as it did not further condemn the dangers of the witch.

"I would advise that you stay away from her." He ended with, turning towards his sister. She appeared thoughtful, and Nuada could tell there was conflict in her mind. She wanted to heed his advice, knowing he only spoke of it to protect her, but he waited for her inevitable rebuttal. They never could agree on anything. No matter how many centuries they had spent apart, at least that remained the same between them.

"I understand…but I think we should give her the benefit of the doubt. She has suffered the loss of a dear friend and has been moved to a new home with people who are suspicious of her. I can only imagine how frightened and lonely she must be. It is only natural that her powers would be…unfocused." Nuala voiced, sparing her brother a sidelong look. Knowing what she meant, Nuada scowled.

"If you are trying to suggest that I and the witch are similar, then-"

"Not similar. The same." Nuala corrected him but pressed on before he had a chance to reply, "But let us drop the matter for now. I need to speak to you."

"Is it the Council?" He asked, taking a guess as to why she had come here. Nuala's thoughtful frown told him he was right.

"The Council has decided to take action to destroy the Golden Army."

Nuada stopped. His sister took a few more steps before slowing down herself, but she refused to look back at him. She could already feel the confusion, hurt, betrayal, anger, and despair that crashed through him before he managed to find his voice.

"Destroy?" He repeated.

Solemnly, his sister nodded.

"We have commissioned the current master of the goblin blacksmiths to melt them down. Every last one."

"The army cannot be commanded without the crown, and the demon's mate melted it. Why would you-"

"We felt it necessary. Its complete destruction will ensure that no one will ever be able to use it. Not ever again." Nuala cut him off, her own emotions beginning to overwhelm her.

They stood in silence for several moments, assessing each other's emotions. Nuala was nervous but hid it well, knowing it was best that she be honest with her brother about the Council's decision. She had hoped that it would act as closure for the pair of them, and allow them both to start healing. But it was clear to her now that this had been a foolish hope.

For yet again the two of them were as opposite as could be. Nuada did not see this as a healing. He saw it as the worst of wounds to be suffered. Worse than the death of his own father.

"I see." He finally bit out in reply.

It was clear why Nuala had done this. She still feared him. Still feared what he might do that she had to erase every chance of him being able to take control over the Golden Army. And she was right to. Nuada himself had wondered in the long hours of sleepless nights if he was ready to surrender the last hope for his people. His imprisonment was not as permanent as most would like to think. After all, the demon would not live forever, as he was no true immortal. And doubtful he would want to be, given that his own mate was human. The demon was the only one strong enough to oppose Nuada head-on, and with him gone Nuada would no longer have reason to remain in this place, no reason to continue in this false peace with humans. Perhaps when this happened, Nuala feared Nuada would attempt to find some way to command the Golden Army. Then she would have to make do on her promise and end the both of them.

In a way, she believed in him more than he did himself. And he felt the need to laugh. Little did she know how far he had sunk…how hollow he truly was.

"You fear my hatred of humans that much? You think I may be tempted to wage war again?" He finally asked her, getting his answer in the spark of disquiet he felt rise inside her. He laughed again, breathlessly, "You should not have bothered. I hate them, yes. But I know everything to be useless now."

"Useless?" Nuala frowned, reaching a hand out for her brother. She recoiled when she felt the depth of her brother's misery. Its emptiness burned her so, and her eyes began to shine with tears.

"It is as you said, our days have ended. Even with the Golden Army, there could be no salvation for us. The humans have won. All there is left to do is fade."

"Brother, I did not mean-" Nuala tried to speak to offer some comfort, but Nuada had enough. He turned from her and walked away, ignoring how it hurt his sister to do so.

Nuada walked on, not certain as to where he was heading. In his anger, he seemed to have made a turn towards the training room, an activity that normally helped him refocus his emotions. But not today. Not for this. And so he continued to wander.

He felt so hopeless. Nuada did not want to admit it to himself before, wanting to blame a lack of focus that would pass, but now he had no choice. Nuada had failed, but it was more than that. Failure did not reach as far as this, for now, Nuada could see everything he had ever done amounted to _nothing_. The one thing that could protect his people was now going to be destroyed. Gone for good. From the death of Mr. Wink to the death of his own father, it had been for nothing.

Worse than nothing, for Nuada knew even if he had taken control of the Golden Army, it would not be enough to save his people. Not with the earth so sick and the sky so heavy, and not with the pitiful number of them remaining. The last elf child had been born nearly seven hundred years ago, and with each passing decade, more of their elders turned to stone. To realize the goal Nuada had fought for so long be so wholly and completely out of his reach…it was the death of the smallest hope he had managed to cling to for these past centuries.

It was the final toll of the bell, and he could hear it ringing in his mind. Time would see his people fade. Nuala seemed to have already made peace with their fate and would have her remaining years filled with love with Abe by her side. Perhaps their people would choose to follow suit, finding their last pleasures to be had in this world. But there would be no such pleasure for Nuada, nor anyone whose company that could keep his remaining years from being empty. His time would be as hollow and as meaningless as he was now…as hollow and as meaningless as humans had made him and his kin…

Nuada stopped. He did not recognize what section of the BPRD he had wandered into, his thoughts had been so consuming. Forcing himself to regain his composer, he noticed what appeared to be a familiar hall that would lead back to his private quarters, and followed it down. But when he saw the lights flickering ahead, he wondered if he had chosen wrong.

Quickly Nuada found he hadn't, but indeed something had gone wrong, for he could hear a quiet sob coming from around a corner ahead. There the lights flickered violently, nearly enough to give him a headache. Approaching, he sensed a wild surge of magic in the air. It was nearly palpable, and he knew there could only be one person responsible for it.

Rounding the corner, Nuada could see the witch. She was huddled into the corner of a dead-end, hugging her knees and her head buried in her hands. She must have run here after the incident at breakfast, blinded by emotion like him. She had not noticed him, and Nuada considered leaving her undisturbed – it was no business of his, after all – when he heard her speak.

"I hate this place. It's cold and dark. It smells like nothing but dust and stone. How can anyone bear it?"

Her voice was cracked with sorrow, as miserable sounding as she looked. Her hair spilled about her like fresh snow, shrouding her in white like a ghost. Something about the pitiful picture she made reached out to Nuada then, and he knew he could not leave her there. Besides, given her emotional state, she was likely to cause harm if she did not calm down soon. And with Nuala on the premise, Nuada was not about to risk the chance the witch running into her like this.

"Miss Winters, are you alright?" He spoke as gently as he could, but evidentially it was not enough. The witch yelped in surprise, and predictably her powers lashed out in defense. Above them the lights shattered, casting the dead-end into darkness. Nuada himself was unharmed, but the witch was frantic.

"Oh, Lord! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She cried, pushing herself onto her feet. As her eyes adjusted, she became even more panicked as she noticed who was in the dark with her.

"Prince Nuada! I…I…uh, I…!" She gasped, backing away from him back into the corner. Rather than suffer through her stuttering, Nuada finished for her.

"You are lost, and I startled you."

"N-no! Well yes. Very. To both." She spoke quickly. Like a child she looked down at her feet in guilt, adding after a moment, "Apologies, your highness. I was just trying to get back to my room and got turned around."

Nuada accepted her apology with a nod, and silence fell in their dark corner. He wondered how to proceed from here. He had wanted to calm the woman down but seemed to only make her more flustered. He considered taking his leave, but some curiosity forced him to remain. Perhaps it was Nuala's comment about the two of them, or perhaps it was Nuada's need for a distraction from himself. Either way, he found himself unwilling to leave the witch's side.

"I believe our rooms share the same hallway. I am retiring to mine now if you wish to follow." He eventually offered, much to the surprise of the witch.

"Oh! Um…I…" She flustered, uncertain of what to do. Eventually, she recovered enough to attempt a curtsy, and replied to him in Daoine, " _How kind._ _Thank you, your highness._ "

Nuada flinched to hear those words spoken in his mother tongue but swallowed his annoyance. Without a word, he turned and left the darkened corner, leading the witch back out into the lit hallway. He did not shorten his stride, and the witch struggled to keep up with his pace for a time. This show of curtesy in no way lessened his suspicions about the witch, though it did instill a feeling of pity towards her. His sister may be right that the witch was merely lonely and frightened, but that did not make her any less dangerous. He wondered if that was why his sister saw such a similarity between them, but he brushed the thought aside. He did not want to think anymore about what his sister had spoken to him.

As for the witch though, she seemed to be burning with curiosity. She kept glancing up at him, biting her lip as if to keep back a thousand questions that were dancing on the tip of her tongue. Afraid of what she might ask of him, Nuada decided to start a casual conversation.

"Your accent is very heavy." He gritted out after a moment.

"Hm?" She sounded in surprise, then gasped, "Oh! Yes. I know. My eldest sister was better at speaking Daoine than I, but none of us could compare to mother. It was a second language to her."

"I did not think it was possible for the human tongue to speak our language, let alone master it." Nuada's tone was harsh with disapproval, but the witch did not notice.

"Mother was of the blood of Elves. An old ancestor we think, from many centuries ago. We suspected that was where our ability for magic came from." She told him proudly.

Nuada did not bother to contain a grimace. Most witches, whether actual decedents of the Other Kind or not, often claimed some family link to elves. It increased their prestige on the market, or so they thought. It was more often than not a lie, as elves rarely mated with those outside their own kind. Still, that did not stop every witch from saying their great-great-grandfather was an elf, and it was clear this girl was no different.

The witch, still oblivious to Nuada's rising resentment, then smiled up at him in a daze.

"You know, until I met you, I had not seen an elf before. I did not know this was how they looked."

"And how do I _look_?" Nuada hissed.

"Beautiful."

The witch's answer caught the both of them off guard. She lowered her gaze before apologizing.

"Sorry. Dr. Hale once told me that I can be very plain-spoken, but I do not think she meant it as a compliment."

Nuada was uncertain how to take this. He had become used to being seen as strange, even beguiling, by humans over the centuries, but for many his appearance did not live up to their expectations. Humans expected elves to be small, happy things like they had read about in their fairy tales. The witch's praise was really not much better, as Nuada disliked how she fawned over him and his sister. Like they were exotic pieces of art on display she meant to collect. What she said next only made this dislike grow.

"It is just that I always wished to see an elf. Ever since I was a little girl. But with your kind being so rare now I did not think I would get the chance to meet one." The witch continued, missing how the muscles of Nuada's jaw clenched in anger, "It is an honor, truly."

She then laughed, the sound echoing down the hall.

"And I promise to work on my accent."

"Do not," Nuada growled, his patience snapped. The witch finally seemed to take note and frowned.

"Pardon?"

Nuada turned to fully face the witch, the pair of them stopping in the middle of the empty hallway. Immediately she withered, his anger apparent to even her oblivious nature. The wide-eyed look she gave him set something off in Nuada, and he found all his previous pity for her replaced with a deep-seated loathing that burned in his veins like acid.

"You are not worthy."

"I…I don't…" She stammered, sounding like a young pup that had just been kicked.

"You are not worthy to speak of Bethmoora, of my people. To speak to _me_ in my native tongue that you butcher for your own amusement."

"I didn't mean–"

"You are nothing but a human. Worse, for you claim to know me and my kin. Do not think your magic is anything more than cheap tricks your ancestors stole from the Other Kind for their own gains. Worse, you have no control over it, no understanding, for it does not belong to you. You take and you take. Proud, empty, hollow things that you are. When will you be satisfied? When all magic is gone or perverted in this world? When we are but pretty stories to tell? What more have we left to give? What more do I have left?"

Nuada knew he was shouting now, but the anger in his heart poured out. His sister dared to compare him to this pathetic human? This girl's study of magic was only to feel some semblance of exceptionality in her otherwise bland existence. That's why she could not control it, as it was never hers to possess. But that's what humans did. They took what was not theirs. They took everything. They had made his life - his mission to protect his people – meaningless in their greed. His father's death, the Golden Army, all empty gestures and now they wanted more. They wanted his last shred of dignity and they wanted him to smile and fulfill their childhood fantasies when they were the ones to kill the dream. They were the ones to drive his people to extinction, to destroy his last remaining hope for his people, to ruin all chance of happiness…

"I don't understand." The witch spoke, her voice a ghost of a whisper.

The lights above them began to flicker again, and Nuada's control broke free from his spell of anger. His words would do nothing to change what was already set in motion. Still, he refused to feel any regret. He had too much already.

"No, of course you do not." He spat before turning away. She remained frozen to her spot, barely breathing, as he left her behind.


End file.
